Key to the North
by ArabellaCarmichael
Summary: "I was promised a wolf" Ramsay taunted her, taking off his thick leather boots. Sansa held his stony gaze "...and I was promised a nobleman but yet here we are." Ramsay/Sansa - The ship that takes a strong stomach and a well versed ability to read between the lines. Lust, lies, loyalty and war - With a Bolton on the iron throne would the seven kingdoms stand a chance?
1. Chapter 1

It had just passed midnight when Roose Bolton strode the corridor to Ramsay's chambers. His face taut; conveying none of the contempt or disgust coursing through his veins like a thundering drum. A feeling he had grown accustom to, dealing with his son.

He considered himself a cruel man with a lust for power and they said the apple never fell far from the tree but Ramsay was… something else. Since childhood he'd held a blatant disregard for the fragility of life. Roose had heard the rumours, he knew of his son's somewhat horrific reputation. A few servant girls went missing every so often, a few body parts appeared in the forests…it wasn't a great loss to king or country. However, tonight that had changed!

He'd been on his way to pick out his prey for the evening, whilst his fat Lady wife slept alone, when he'd overheard the hushed whispers of two cooks.

" _I can't believe what he did to her."_

 _"_ _Monster, the North will never forget_."

As he listened carefully, the contents of their conversation made his stomach turn. How anyone quite as calculated and manipulative as his bastard boy could be so stupid made his sick!

Two of Ramsay's 'boys' were stationed outside his door; sneering and talking. They removed before Roose's hand touched the heavy wood. It crashed against the old stone, exposing a dark lair of stale misery. Tension thick in the musty air. At the end of the bed Reek curled into a shaking ball. The young lady Sansa lay in the bloody tatters of her wedding gown, she was not asleep but showed no reaction to his intrusion. Beside her Ramsay slept like content child; his leather breastplate rising and falling with each breath.

"Get up"

"Father" Ramsays eyes searched the darkness.

"UP!"

It wasn't often Roose saw fear in his son's eyes but oh how he enjoyed it when he did.

The corridor was cold and candle light flickered. Ramsay searched for an explanation but none was given.

"Father, have I displeased you?"

"Yes."

A sordid smirk crawled across his lips"…but what could I have done?" He pretended to consider his recent behaviour.

"When I saw you married I finally glimpsed a son I could be proud of. I gave you an opportunity. A Bolton bastard married the last Stark of the North. "

"I have no idea what you're taking about" Ramsay held his jaw strong.

"The servants talk Ramsay and not just inside these walls by now half the North will know what you did to her. Old lords will be falling over themselves to ride to our gates and defend Sansa Fucking Stark's honour. " He watched Ramsay grimace at his words.

"Let them."

Roose's eyes darkened. " I gave you the Key to the North and you raped it."

Ramsay nodded "She's my wife and I will do with her as I like."

"That girl was born to be queen and misfortune has landed her on our doorstep. She has more nobility in a single finger than you in your entire body. The last Wolf of Winterfell is in your bed and if you can't handle her I'll take her from you."

Ramsay paled, caught off guard.

"Don't think I would have married a Frey if I'd had Sansa Stark on offer. A child of Bolton and Stark blood will rule the North but you're taking it for granted that it be your child."

All trace of colour faded from Ramsay's face. Without another word his father departed, leaving Ramsay pressed against the cold stone wall, in the dark, his imagination running wild.


	2. Chapter 2

Sansa lay in the dark starring at the ceiling. The bed was hard and the Bolton's were hell; she was sure of it.

At least Ramsay was gone, for now. Her breaths came heavy and laboured wondering the contents of the conversation taking place beyond her door. Sansa wasn't stupid, Roose was reprimanding Ramsay but it wouldn't stop him, it would only succeed in making Ramsay angrier. Sansa was cold, broken and battered but she felt nothing; nothing at all.

In Kings Landing she had been beaten, humiliated, passed around and used as nothing more than entertainment but she'd never been scared of Joffrey the way she was of Ramsay Bolton. Jeoffrey could be satiated by compliments and false humility whereas Ramsay Bolton could not. Sana had never been more sure that she was merely a pawn in the game of power being played by men.

All the family she'd known had staked their own claim; waged their own war. Not Sansa, until now she'd been helpless, kinless and alone; that was going to end. Her heart had turned to ash the day she watched her father killed in front of her. Ramsay Bolton could not hurt her, it is impossible to hurt someone who would welcome death like an old friend. Now Sansa had her own agenda, this was her home, her Winterfell and she would not let it slip through her fingers again.

Ramsay's sickening words replayed in her mind from earlier that night. He'd made her bend forward over a plain white sheet whilst he took her with force and grunted "Lie still, your blood on this sheet is the North's signature of loyalty to the Bolton name."

His eyes had been full of glee as he'd watched her bleed before he fell asleep. She shuddered at the memory.

They were fools to underestimate her. In Kings landing she had learnt quickly that observing your opponent was imperative to understanding them. That was your greatest weapon as a woman. The moment she saw Ramsay's reaction to the news of his soon to arrive sibling she had smiled to herself. Oh Ramsay had his weakness and she would ensure she exploited it.

As the darkness melted into a bleak grey dawn Sansa waited, for sleep to come or Ramsay to reappear; whichever occurred first.

Woken to the morning sun from a troubled sleep Sansa heard an agonised wimper. Myranda, the only person he disliked more than Ramsay, was bent over the fire place holding her side with a swollen hand and tending the fire. Sansa smirked to herself, Ramsay hadn't come back here last night...he'd gone somewhere else.

"He did that to you" Sansa's voice broke the silence.

"No" Myranda protested.

The poor girl thought that she was different, Sansa could see it in her eyes, she thought that Ramsay loved her; that she meant something to the monster. It had taken Sansa only a few days to see right through the very core of their relationship. Ramsay had grown alone, lived feared and revelled in pleasures he could not share with anyone. Myranda was all he had but he didn't love her. Had it not been for Myranda's outburst before her wedding; Sansa might have spared her out of wrongly places pity. Luckily the girl had shown her hand and now she would lose her head.

"Are you ok?" Sansa's grey eyes brushed over the shaking Myranda.

"I'm fine" she snapped.

"I know he did that to you" Sansa said, coldly "There's no point lying to me. I can recognise when a woman has been beaten. I've been beaten."

Myranda's expression darkened as she was met with Sansa's words. Her voice barely a whisper above the roaring fire. "He doesn't beat me….unless I ask him to. Last night was the first time.".

"So was I right in what I said yesterday? Are you in Love with my husband?"

Myranda hissed lifting a bucket of water over the fire. "I love Ramsay and I loved him for years before you arrived…"

Sansa cut off the fuming Myranda. "I'm not trying to anger you."

"Then what are you trying to do Wolf?" Myranda asked.

Sansa steadied herself not to bite back; Myranda's time would come. "I don't mind. It's not my first time in this situation you know. My maid was in love with my last husband Lord Tyrion and that worked out rather well for us both. Of course we were good friends Shay and I."

Myranda snorted "You're not in Kings Landing anymore."

Sansa smiled and pushed on "I don't blame you for loving him. Ramsay is handsome enough but he's a Lord in his own right now, that means he will never claim you. There is nothing either of us can do."

Still laid on her back with her eyes closed she heard Myranda moving around.

"He was supposed to marry me"

At this Sansa stiffened, had Ramsay really agreed to marry Myranda? Perhaps she was wrong, was it possible that the monster really did care for the girl? Sansa hoped not, that would be a problem.

"Well he didn't, he married me" she heard the movement stop "I am here to serve a purpose, I didn't choose this anymore than you chose to love him but if you insist on fighting me, you will lose. Ramsay doesn't love me but he needs the Stark name and heirs so I'm not going anywhere. You must have realised that by now."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that" Myranda smirked "people are always meeting with gruesome accidents around here."

Sansa rolled her eyes "If it weren't me it would be some other highborn lady. With far less to offer than me no doubt. The fact of the matter is Myranda, he is the next Lord Bolton, you can kill as many wives as you like but will never hold that title."

Myranda's eyes lifted to stare at her, a slither of fiery understanding. In a different time and a different place, Sansa may have enjoyed Myranda.

"So…what are you proposing?" Myranda's green eyes glimmered with intrigue.

"That we don't fight each other" Sansa said. "You are what he wants and I am what he must have; there is nothing weaker than a house at war with itself. I lived with the Lannisters for years so I know that. We have a vested interest because if Ramsay were to fall then so would we. When we establish his position Myranda, you can be his mistress, an official position within the household. Your own chambers and he will be free to love you whilst I will be left in peace."

Myranda's green eyes glistened, she knew the Lady spoke the truth but she was shocked to hear it, the household had assumed Lady Sansa to be a naïve child of misfortune… it would appear that they had assumed wrongly.

"Very well" Myranda had no option, despite the jealously that still ached in the pit of her stomach. She knew too well how unusual it was to find a highborn wife willing to accept a bed warmer, prior betrothed, servant into her household. Sansa was right, they shared a vested interest.


	3. Chapter 3

Myranda filled the iron tub to the brim with steaming water and watched from the corner of the room whilst Sansa sank into it. It stung a little when it touched her sore sensitive areas. Myranda winced enviously and went to fetch another bucket of water.

When Sansa was done she twisted the water out of her long hair and her eyes wandering to Myranda. "Don't waste the hot water it will sooth your bruises, I can dress myself."

Carefully Myranda undressed and climbed into the tub. Sansa heard the whimpering of a bruised body hitting the hot water and smiled to herself as she dressed.

Myranda lay in the bath of cooling water and when Sansa re-emerged in her white cotton shift. Her eyes fell on the beautiful red head disdainfully. Without hesitation Sansa perched on the edge much as Myranda had the night before her wedding; now the roles had been reversed.

"You see how much more pleasant this can be for both of us?" Sansa said, her voice trailing off. "The only thing I ask, is that you refrain from divulging our arrangement to Ramsay."

Myranda sat up straight "I won't lie to him!"

"Not lie, just not discuss it with him. Consider how Ramsay would react knowing our arrangement. Women scheming behind his back, it would make him…unhappy."

Myranda nodded. "I suppose you might be right" she was still feisty; Sansa could see it but that wouldn't last long.

"His temper doesn't suit him being unhappy." Sansa smiled as Myranda couldn't help but nod once again.

"I won't say anything" She said.

* * *

Sansa walked the gloomy corridors to Walda Frey's chamber. They could give the fat lady whatever surname they wanted but to Sansa she would always be a Frey. The Frey's killed her mother and brother and Sansa would never forgive them. Two of Lord Bolton's men stood guard at Walda's door. They were nothing compared to the aptly named 'Bastards Boys' who stood guard outside her own but still Sansa waited whilst they knocked to announce her arrival. A small blonde serving girl appeared "Lady Sansa, may I help?"

Sansa steadied herself with the largest smile she could muster. "I was wondering whether Lady Bolton would enjoy some company, it has been very quiet in my chamber alone all day." Sansa couldn't remember the girl's name but she was pretty in a way, with large brown eyes and a slightly crooked smile. The girl nodded stood aside beckoning her to enter.

"Lady Bolton" Sansa dipped her head as she entered the large chamber and saw Walda sat embroidering in the window.

"Please call me Walda, there's no point using titles when we share one." Walda really was a sight to behold, not blessed with beauty or grace. Sansa slipped into a seat opposite her and smiled as she admired the embroidery.

"It's quite beautiful" she ran her fingers gently over the fine material as she admired it. Again Walda flushed pink.

"Well it's not up to the standard of Kings landing I'm sure but I try my best." Walda looked uncomfortable for a moment, like she was deciding whether or not to broach the rumours about Sansa's wedding night hell at the hands of Ramsay.

"Women in Kings Landing rarely embroider" Sansa said, breaking the tension.

"Then they must be awfully bored, how do they pass the time?"

Sansa's eyes narrowed as though carefully constructed her answer, "They like to play games"

"Board games? I heard they're quite fashionable in Kings Landing."

"Not exactly" Sansa replied.

There was another brief silence before Walda spoke again. "How are you settling in here Sansa?"

"Quite well, I am very…comfortable" she watched Walda's eyes fill with sadness. Walda's voice dropped to a whisper as she waved her hand and watched the servant girl obediently leave the room.

"Roose is not unkind to me… not the way Ramsay will be…I'm sorry" her eyes ran over Sansa's body and a confused expression covered her chubby features.

"Is something wrong?" Sansa asked.

"..I heard some serving girls talking this morning talking about how Ramsay had beaten you after Roose's talk with him. I admit although I hoped for your health; I thought you'd be in a worse condition."

Sansa grimaced and tried to pool emotion into her eyes for the sake of looking genuine. "After Lord Bolton's visit Ramsay sought his entertainment….elsewhere. I'm afraid it was Myranda who took brunt of his anger."

Walda offered an understanding nod as she gazed out of the window wistfully "Bolten men have bed warmers" her gaze drifted to where the small blonde girl had re-entered the chamber.

"Roose too?"

"Of course"

"Well I suppose it is better them than us, is it not?" Sansa smiled gently placing her hand over Lady Walda's as she rose to leave.

"I hope you will visit me again" Walda said, eager to spend more time in Sansa's company to hear about the ways of Kings Landing Ladies.

"I will, I promise." Sansa whispered; and she meant it.

* * *

Days passed before Sansa saw Ramsay again; she she preferred it that way. He'd left to hunt the morning after she noticed Myranda's bruises but what he was hunting had not been specified. He's only just arrived back and already a chill crept down Sansa's spine; Ramsay sat triumphantly beside her at the dinner table. He didn't look at her, not once, he simply smiled whilst talking to his father as though nothing had happened. As the night drew to an end she felt his hand slip under the table and find her thigh. He squeezed her uncomfortably hard, he wanted her to wince away or whimper, he was daring her to; but she didn't. As his grip tightened she bit her lip and listened to Ramsay's continued conversation with his father; determined no pain would show on her face.

Roose wasn't fooled, "Lady Sansa, are you well?" he fained interest, looking at Ramsay expectantly.

"I am feeling a little faint, may I retire early?" She asked.

Roose nodded and Sansa stood ready to flee before Roose's flat voice stopped her. "Ramsay, your wife is unwell, see her tended to."

Ramsay had just taken a gulp of wine and swallowed it with a smirk, "It would be my pleasure father."

"One moment before you leave" Roose beckoned Ramsay to his side and lowered his voice so that none other could hear him. "You love your wife Ramsay, if anyone inside these walls hears differently tonight you'll be sleeping beside your pet in those kennels. Do you understand?"

Sansa cursed herself as they walked the corridor toward her bed chamber in silence, she should have expected Lord Roose to send Ramsay with her. Roose had one thing and one thing only on his mind; a child of House Stark and House Bolton. The very thought made Sansa nauseous.

Ramsay's men parted at their door to let them through. Only when it thudded shut behind them did Ramsay address her with menacing glee. "Don't worry. They won't tell a sole what they hear tonight."

"How was your hunt, my Lord husband" her tone was too sickly he saw through it.

"Challenging…" he moved closer, hot breath hitting her cold neck "…but I do love a girl who can run."

He wanted her to recoil in horror but she wouldn't "Blonde or Brunette?" she asked, sitting on the bed.

"Blonde I'd say, though it was red by the time the dogs had eaten. They worked hard so they fed well."

The lack of reaction made him angry, fire was burning in Ramsay's eyes. He had a feeling Sansa wasn't squeamish even on their wedding night he hadn't been able to shake the feeling that her weeping and wailing was more for show than purpose. He'd made enough girl scream in pain and fear to know what it sounded like.

"You know... I was promised a Wolf" he taunted her, taking off his thick leather boots.

"…and I was promised a nobleman but here we are" Sansa replied, coldly.

"Take your clothes off" he growled "Or I'll do it for you" at least they were alone this time but she could see the shadow of reek stood outside the door. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice and quickly threw off her robes determined not to lose another dress to Ramsay's brutality. As she stood in front of the bed, naked, with a pool of her dress at her feet the cold night air caressed her body and she shivered; this was going to be unpleasant.

Ramsay watched her in silence, basking in her awkward uncomfortable stance. He liked the way she tried to cover herself, he was violating her and letting her anticipate what was coming. His lips met her neck and she felt him bite her; he wasn't gentle. He growled into the back of her shoulder "If you scream tonight, I'll put you in the dungeons and tell my father you're unwell for the rest of the week." It wasn't a threat, it was a promise and she knew it. Pushing her back on the bed his movement were hurried and harsh, his trousers fell to the ground and his hardness grazed her thigh. He lined himself up until his tip pressed her crisp hairs and with one deep thrust he filled her to the hilt. It wouldn't take him long, not at this speed, not after days on the hunt. His hand clenched around her throat.

"Look at me little Wolf" he growled "Look at me!"

Sansa closed her eyes; at least she was home in Winterfell.


	4. Chapter 4

Sansa's hand grasped the furs on the bed as he thrust himself inside of her, she was dry and still sore from the last time. Her refusal to cry out only spurred him on. His teeth sunk into her shoulder for the second time that night. "Howl Wolf" he grinned.

Sansa didn't make a sound; she would choke on her tongue before she would. All she had to do was hold out a little longer and he would break before she did. Ramsay groaned as he slammed into her again, deep, hard and continuous he was going to come, he could feel it. He watched her face, he wanted her to fear him but she didn't.

"Fine have it your way" he groaned.

Her leg was lifted up and over his shoulder into a position Sansa was sure he'd learned in a brothel. His fingers wrapped once more around that long, noble neck.

"Who do you belong to Sansa Stark?" his voice growled

"The North" Sansa choked.

He thrust again spurred by the disgust in her eyes. He stopped, suddenly, she almost gasped in relief as the stinging ceased. Within a moment she realised why, heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, Roose's footsteps. Ramsay cursed, hard as stone and still buried within her. He had been so close, of course his father chose now. The footsteps drew closer, Ramsay's hot breath her wet cheek and Sansa let out a blood curling scream.

"What are you doing?" Ramsay cut off her air, choking her.

The footsteps stopped just outside the door, waiting. Sansa tried to prise his fingers away and Ramsay had no other choice. Roose had heard her, no doubt ready to storm in and flay his own son.

Gasping for her breath back Sansa's eyes met his with determination. She threw her head back and watched Ramsay watched in Horror as she groaned "Ohh.."

"Ooh gods Ramsay" she moaned again.

He twitched inside her.

"mmm" she purred it as though he were pleasuring her in the most delicious way but her cold eyes never left his horrified face.

Reek must have fled the moment he saw Roose coming, the only shadow beneath the door was his feet now. A smirk spread across Ramsay's face and Sansa readied herself for her big finish. Grasping the furs around her and threw up her chest.

"Put a child inside me." The words tasted bitter and Ramsays eyes burnt. He followed her lead and let out a primitive groan. The moment he did Roose's footsteps headed back down the corridor and Sansa fell to the bed, lifeless once again. Ramsay starred down at her, still rock hard and buried inside her. What the hell had just happened?

He didn't like this. Had he underestimated her? No, she wasn't calculated, or manipulative, or feisty, was she?

"You did well little wolf" the malicious smirk covered his face and a sudden realisation occurred to him.

"Would it bother you more if you enjoyed me Lady Sansa?"

"I could never enjoy you"

Ramsay smirked, perhaps he had been reaching for the wrong reactions. Perhaps the best way to break Lady Sansa was to force her to betray herself.

"If you were a man I would hold that as a bet" he ran his fingers gently over the skin of her neck as she waited for him to grasp her once again.

"If I were a man you wouldn't have your cock inside me"

"Where did a lady like you learn a word like that?"

Her eyes flashed with fire…

"My reward shall be that you end this quickly" her voice was empty as she stared up at him, less a request than a demand.

"Now, that wouldn't be a fitting reward, would it?" He lifted her hips and threw her back onto the bed, she landed with a soft thud on her back and watched in horror as he licked slowly up her thigh, inching higher and higher until his tongue ran over her sensitive heat and jolted unknown pleasure through her.

"No" she said but he continued

"No!" he wasn't listening to her, his tongue circled an increasingly sensitive nub between her thighs and his arms gripped her thighs holding her open to him as he did things to her she didn't understand. A coil wound tighter insider her, she bit down on her lip to stop herself moaning. Oh gods. The harder she squirmed the harder he held her. He gently sucked on her, flicking his tongue and sending her spiralling into convulsing, explosive bliss. She tasted her own blood as she cried out but he didn't stop. Sansa was sure she would die, until his mouth stilled on her and she caught her breath.

Ramsay reached down to his hardness and stroked it, twice, before lining himself up amongst her crisp wet hairs. His tip pressed her entrance and coated itself in wetness she knew was coming from her. Sansa braced herself for the pain as Ramsay slid inside of her but there was none. Only the satiation of pleasure, she could feel every inch of him, aching and throbbing as he thrust into her. His lips met hers and caught her by surprise, his tongue touched hers and Sansa closed her eyes. She hadn't though Ramsay capable of being gentle even in play. Every stroke pushed her closer to the explosive feeling again, he reached down and touched his thumb to the sensitive spot. His groans had repulsed her but now they pooled an ache inside her. When Sansa found her hands grasping his shoulders and her lips on his neck she resented herself. When she convulsed and quivered on his throbbing hardness she hated herself. When she heard him roar in her ear and felt him pulsing his seed into her, she despised herself. This was not how it was supposed to happen.

Ramsay took one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking roughly and grazing it with his teeth. His eyes darkened "You better get used to this…You'll feed our son with these."

Her legs shook, when he rolled off of her, laying breathlessly at the side.

"I think I'll sleep in here tonight. If you try to kill me my dear I'll be most displeased"

She caught her breath as she felt him move close to her, his hot rasping breath against her face ran his fingers over her bare shoulder, tracing the imprint of his teeth had left there.. Sleep found her quickly and for that she was grateful.


	5. Chapter 5

Ramsay woke at the sound of Myranda coming to tend the fire.

Shit

Her eyes scanned the bed and met his, betrayal evident. He watched her in silence and removed his arm from where is had come to lie, draped over Sansa. He smirked, slipping from the bed.

"Come now Myranda " he smirked pressing his lips to her forehead as she pushed him away,

"You beat me, took off on your hunt without so much as an apology and then…this."

"I thought you liked it rough" He smirked

"On my terms!"

"Where is the fun in that?"

"Your wife is waiting for you" she turned to the fire but he stopped her.

Sansa had woken to the sound of Myranda's shrill voice but lay still, listening.

"We spoke about your, jealousy" Ramsay said, as though he were talking to a petulant child.

"You used to care about my, jealously. You hunted Tansy for me and I wasn't even jealous of her" she glowered at him as he grasped her harder pushing her to the wall behind her.

"What would you have me do, Flay my wife?"

"That would be nice, yes. The servants are talking, they said you…made love to her last night" She was goading him and clearly not expecting the response she got.

"I did"

"You…" Myranda's voice faltered and Ramsay was clearly losing patience.

"I said I would have plenty of time for you Myranda, not that I would torture my wife to make you happy. She behaved well, she was rewarded."

Sansa shuddered again hearing him refer to himself as a reward.

"Stop calling her that" Myranda hissed

"Calling her my wife? That's what she is Myranda."

"You didn't want to marry her"

"…and that doesn't make it any less real."

Myranda sneered "You're underestimating that wolf."

"She's no wolf, a fox with ambition at best"

Myranda smirked as she pushed her way past him and to the door, he did not try to stop her, her eyes watched him as she disappeared through the door "Beware the wolf in sheep's clothing Ramsay" and with that she was gone. Sansa smiled to herself, he'd been warned and he still wouldn't believe it, she had to admit she was a little shocked that Myranda was the only one to truly see her.

For a brief second Sansa allowed herself to wonder if Ramsay would remain as gentle as he had been last night. In the weeks that followed she was proved wrong, he returned to their regular, rough encounters but thankfully made them brief. He gave a list of excuses, each more plausible than the last for why this was, Sansa wondered if they were true, or if he'd simply found somebody else to play with in her place. Every few days Myranda would turn up with fresh bruises and wore them like a badge of honour. Proof that Ramsay preferred her to his own wife. It made her sick that Myranda indulged in the same pleasures as her husband.

* * *

Almost three weeks had passed and Sansa sat at the breakfast table in the hall. Roose announced that he would be visiting the Dreadfort to meet with the war council urgently. Reports had reached Winterfell that Stannis was moving his army toward the outlands of the North. War was imminent and Ramsay was wound tight, impatient, a man with such insatiable blood lust never could wait for war. Sansa sensed his apprehension at the table, waiting for his father to demand his presence at the dreadfort but Roose said nothing.

One glance exchanged at the wrong moment between Walda and Roose set Sansa's intuition on fire, she knew what was happening. This was Kings Landing all over again only the women were uglier.

"Apologies Lord Bolton, I fear I must excuse myself, I suddenly feel nauseas" Sansa stood, swaying slightly for effect and holding her fingers to her lip.

Roose nodded approvingly "Let's hope an heir is the cause"

Ramsay watched his wife with vague interest and mild irritation for his father's obvious slight in not requiring him at the Dreadfort. Sansa didn't look sickly, he thought as he watched her.

"I'll accompany you" Ramsay rose from his chair but she motioned for him to stop.

"No, surely your father requires you here Lord husband, if you are to ride to the Dreadfort shortly. War is more pressing than a passing sickness."

Sansa watched curiously as Roose tensed over his plate.

"Ramsay will not be coming with me, someone must stay here to guard Winterfell." His words were as cold and firm as Sansa had ever heard and she could feel anger rising from Ramsay. Shockingly it rose inside of her also. The war council was made of all the Northern lords, not least to mention Walda's father Lord Frey. Whose daughter was now expecting Roose's Son. Sansa had seen the beginnings of enough conspiracies to recognise one and the way that Walda dipped her usually eager eyes away from the table confirmed her fears. It didn't make sense. She could imagine Lord Frey's disgust when Roose legitimised Ramsay, Lord Frey would undoubtedly believe his daughters child to be the Bolton heir. Sansa had expected that but Roose knew the weight of the Stark blood, what was he doing? Sansa couldn't read Roose, even little finger had struggled and that worried her. It made her uneasy.

"How…peculiar" she stood from the table and made to leave but Roose's voice stopped her.

"How so Lady Sansa?" his tone warned her to be careful.

"It's nothing my Lord, Its just Lord Baelish told me…." She lowered her eyes and pretended to stop herself "Forgive me, I shouldn't repeat his words."

Roose's intrigue peaked at the mention of Baelish. What had that old fox said to the girl? Baelish had his fingers in pies Roose had never glimpsed.

"Lady Sansa, we are family now. You must share your concern." His strong stare fixed on her as Ramsay watched the scene unfold.

"Well its just that Lord Baelish told me. 'Ramsay Bolton is a name spoken in whisper as far as Kings landing, the bloody siege of Moat Cailin is told over ale and wine as far as Dorn. Roose is cunning no doubt but Ramsay is a bloodthirsty beast of a warrior with a reputation that proceeds him. I assure you that will compensate his questionable parentage in this match. When Ramsay and Roose's stand side by side, words of war will ring out across the seven kingdoms. Trust me my dear Sansa, the North will be yours for many years to come."

There was silence at the table as she finished her speech "Perhaps he was wrong, I only hope that Ramsay's absence won't lead to false reports of the Bolton house being weak." She didn't need to look at Ramsay to see his wide grin or at Roose to see the conflicted scowl. Baelish was never wrong; Roose knew it.

"Only a fool would think you to be a Warrior Ramsay but a bloodthirsty beast you are indeed" Roose raised his hand to the man waiting by the door. "Tell the men to ready our horses, Ramsay rides with me to the Dreadfort."

* * *

Ramsay watched Sansa excuse herself from the table. He waited just long enough for her to think herself alone before he followed her, cornering her only as she reached the end of the corridor, steadied herself against a beam and gulped in breaths of cold fresh air. Her heart was pounding in her chest, it was exhilarating.

"What was that?" he asked, she jumped realising she was not alone.

"You had to go to the Dreadfort"

"My father would have taken me"

Sansa sucked the frosty air, "No he wouldn't, he gave you legitimacy Ramsay and he can take it away just as easily."

"The King gave me legitimacy and nobody can take that away!" Ramsay seethed, closing in on her and pressing her to the wall.

"King Tommen? Have you ever met him Ramsay?"

Ramsay's cruel eyes flamed

"I haven't had the pleasure."

"Allow me to fill you in. Tommen is a soft, weak boy who was never intended for the Iron Throne and has no chance of keeping it. You have no legitimacy Ramsay, you only have what you take. I was helping you in there!"

"and why would you help me?"

Sansa tried to control her ragged breaths as anger boiled inside her. "They betrothed me the inbred, they gifted me to the half man…they can't marry me to a bastard as well. I'm Sansa Stark and you will be Lord Bolton, Warden of the North, else everything I've been through is for nothing."


	6. Chapter 6

As they rode from the courtyard Ramsay turned his horse, stopped and grazed his lips to her hand.

"I will return soon sweet wife" his words were empty and meaningless but it seemed all of Winterfell watched.

The moment they were gone Sansa sent word to little finger, a hastily scrawled note attached to the leg of Ramsay favourite raven. He'd taken his favourite men with him, leaving only a handful to watch her and his precious dogs. From the few conversations she had managed to overhear, they would be gone for the better part of two weeks and she had work to do in that time.

"Walda, shall we lunch together today?" Sansa called out as the fat woman began to wobble away.

"That would be nice, I do hate being alone. I grew up with many siblings, I was never alone at home."

Sansa saw Myranda, stood on the foothold of the wall, watching Ramsay long into the distance.

"Myranda" she snapped, breaking the girls fixed attention "You will serve us lunch. Come."

"Of course" Myranda scowled

Sansa hurried back to her chamber and prayed that the herbs she had asked for had been delivered. The third night she had been here she had caught one of the laundry women alone, Loyal servants would mutter "The North Remembers" quietly whenever they encountered her alone. An open invitation for her to request help if she needed it. A constant reminder that she was not alone here. The moment the woman had muttered the words she'd practically pounced on her with the...unusual request. The woman had nodded, looking at her with sad eyes, shaking her head as she glanced down to her flat stomach.

"I will help you Lady Stark" and with that she had taken her leave.

If the North truly did remember then she would be successful in her plan, if the North did not and she was found out her head would hang over the gates of Winterfell. Either way she had no other option.

Sansa dropped to her knees by the bed and felt underneath amongst the ropes that held the stuffed mattress taught. Her heart raced when she felt it. The little brown cloth bag. An hour later she sat embroidering by her window, her heart raced as she heard Myranda enter with a tray of tea and cakes from the Kitchen. No doubt Walda would arrive any second. Reek skulked outside the door, Ramsay would have taken him to the Dreadfort but Roose had stood firm, flaunting his pet was bad taste.

* * *

Myranda placed the tray down in front of Sansa.

"Thank you Myranda, let Lady Bolton know lunch has arrived and that I await her"

"Of course" Myranda sighed and Sansa watched slyly as she left the room. The moment she was alone Sansa pulled the small brown bag from her sleeve and sprinkled the herbs into the teapot, waiting for them to dissolve before pouring some of her own tepid water into the pot.

By the time Walda appeared followed by Myranda, Sansa was once again sat by her window embroidering, she glanced up with a smile the tray seemingly untouched.

"Walda, I'm afraid with our husbands away we must spend our time together. Else we will be rather lonely."

Walda smiled and nodded. Deceit did not suit Walda Frey, it never had done even when Sansa had known her as a child. The afternoon began uncomfortably Walda's conscience clearly paining her.

"Have another cake, try the raspberry tart" Sansa encouraged her.

Walda seemed to very much enjoy the kitchen's cakes. She reminded Sansa that she was now eating for two and Sansa smiled sweetly. She could have been eating for eight and the amount wouldn't have been justified. Myranda poured the tea. Sansa tried to busy herself with embroidery and not starring at the cup placed in front of her. As Walda raised her cup to her lips, Sansa raised her own, pressed her lip to the pot and forced herself to swallow air without allowing any of the liquid into her mouth.

She recoiled with a frown, "Myranda, it's tepid."

Sansa looked to Walda but just as she'd predicted, her cup was almost empty.

" I prefer it cooled" Walda offered

Myranda took Sansa's full cup.

"It can't be, I made it myself in the kitchen and it was steaming hot when I brought it in"

"Are you calling me a liar Myranda? Try it for yourself" This hadn't been part of Sansa's plan but it couldn't hurt. The last thing she needed was another Bolton bastard being brought into the mix. Myranda took a few greedy gulps before looking incuriously at the cup.

"You're right, I'll fetch more."

"As long as Lady Walda is happy then I will content myself with wine. I'm not a fan of tea, it was plied on us in Kings Landing, I grew sick of it."

* * *

Late into the night Sansa lay awake waiting for it to happen. It was a strange feeling, as though she were finally taking control of her own life. She should feel guilty but she didn't, not at all. Cold anticipation filled her with fear and excitement. She must had drifted into a light sleep as her mouth was dry when she opened her eyes to a loud knock on her door. Springing from the bed she opened it to find reek stood shaking in her doorway. He stuttered as she watched him, poor reek missed his master. It was a shame Roose allow him flaunted.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Lady Bolton, is unwell. The Maeester is with her can I send for Lord Bolton?" he mumbled.

"No, I don't think so reek. Let's wait and see what happens shall we?" god, she sounded like Ramsay for a spit second.

"Ok" Reek shifted on the spot.

"Reek, do you miss your master?"

"…Yes" he stuttered

"As do I reek and whilst he is gone you and I are going to protect him. You will help me protect him won't you Reek?" Sansa opened the door, allowing reek to step in side.

He nodded eagerly as she continued "There are people in Winterfell who want to harm him reek, it's up to us to make sure that doesn't happen."


	7. Chapter 7

Sansa slipped the brown cloth bag into reek waiting palm and whispered in his ear her instructions.

"and reek… if you tell anyone, I will tell Ramsay that you offered to help me escape whilst he was gone."

Reeks face fell in horror.

"…I don't want to do that reek but I will have to, if you let me down. You won't let me down, will you?"

Reek shook his head and left Sansa's chamber quietly.

Sansa wrapped her woollen shawl tight around her, she had business to attend to inside the walls of Winterfell today. Lady Walda lay dying and Sansa had a part to play, it was only moments before she reached the dark chamber. It smelt like decay and pain as she slipped inside to see the woman writhing in agony and crying out from her bed. Sansa sat dutifully by Walda's side while the Masteer did his best to save the child. His attempts were futile, quickly his focus moved to saving Walda's own life but again, he would not succeed. Perhaps if she had been in better health herself it would have been different Sansa thought as she watched the scene. Sansa felt only pity for Walda while she watched her fade away from this world. Pity Lord Frey would not have felt for her mother and brother when he slaughtered them. Almost a week of suffering finally came to an end and Sansa closed Lady Walda's eyes for the last time.

Outside the chamber she stood meekly as the Maesteer spoke with a six strong band of Roose's men. Roose and Ramsay had finally been sent for yesterday, when all hope had finally been lost for the child's life. Sansa knew these men, they had grown in the villages around Winterfell, their fathers had served hers own loyally, once. Since the day she had arrived they had watched her, observing her uncomfortably, back in her rightful home. Sansa only hoped she had been right in her understanding, only time would tell.

The Maesteer was grave, "This was no accident Lady Walda suffered a violent reaction to poison. No doubt given to her as an attack on the child's life." Sansa's face contorted in pretence of disbelief.

"Who would do such a thing?" she gasped.

The Maesteer, who she had also known since childhood, a long time servant of Winterfell took her hands "Oh my dear Lady Sansa, there are evils in this world, a Lady such as you should never see."

The largest of the guards, who she knew to be called John, moved his hand to his sword. "Who did this?"

His question was not aimed at anyone but Sansa took her cue and raised her hand to her mouth, horrified, "Lady Bolton ate lunch with me in my Chamber the day she was taken ill. I ate and drank the same as she did but I am fine. The only other person there was Myranda she served us but now I recall I haven't seen her in several days…"

Without another word the guards stormed down the corridor, heading to Myranda's small room near the kitchen…Sansa smiled to herself with glee. They wouldn't find her… no one would.

* * *

Later that night when the guard held the small brown cloth bag of herbs in front of her and the Measteer, it was confirmed. Reek told the guard how he had seen Myranda flee the walls of Winterfell under the cover of night, days ago. A search party was mounted on horse back and sent in the direction he gave. Myranda would be caught and thrown on the mercy of the Bolton men when they returned. If only they knew where Myranda really was.

Sansa retired to her chamber, to recover from the awful events of the day. Reek slipped inside every hour to whisper silent updates to her. Roose and Ramsay would arrive home tomorrow. The eyes of Winterfell now lay firmly on the benevolent Lady Sansa, a strong, loyal, northern direwolf who stayed by her Kin until the very end. This would be her home again, her Winterfell and then everything she had done would be worth it. When the sun set she lay on her bed and drifted into an undisturbed sleep.

Sansa woke to warmth curled around her feet, Reek but have joined her during the night and lay at her feet like a dog.

"What time is it?" she asked

"It was dawn before I came in" he said.

"Damn it!" She scrambled to the edge of the bed, she had to dress. Roose and Ramsay would be here soon.

"Don't worry Reek, you have done well and I will make sure your master knows that."

His eyes sparked at the thought. Lifting herself from the bed Sansa pulled her shawl over her night dress, her gown would have to wait, there was no time to waste. "Take me to her reek."

The bowels of the Winterfell dungeon were pitch black. They bore the same smell they always had, a mixture of fresh soil and horses, these were familiar tunnels, the ones she had played in as a child. It the deepest corner lay a door, so well matched to the wall it was almost invisible, unless you knew it was there. Rob and Reek had once locked John inside and left him there until he missed dinner, that was back when reek was Theon Sansa thought as she followed the broken man through the tunnels. That felt like a long time ago now. She heard the whimpering before she opened the door and it stopped the moment she entered. Her footsteps made a dull thud as she entered the room and waited as reek lit the torches.

"How good of you to join us" Sansa said.

The girl hung in the room, arms tied together above her head and toes barely touching the dirt floor. Her dress was covered in blood from the waist down. If Myranda had been carrying Ramsay's child then she wasn't anymore.

"Apologies about that" Sana glanced down at the blood stains. "You never can be too careful and bastards are a dangerous business when they're Bolton."

Myranda's eyes widened as she whimpered in fear. Sansa stood strong her flame red hair burning as she glared at the helpless girl… now this, she was enjoying. Reek stumbled in the background, cowering against the wall.

"Reek.." she spoke loudly her voice cutting through the dark. "Heel" she pointed to the ground by her feet as she watched his slender body slink toward her and fall to the ground. "Good reek" she muttered as Myranda watched.

Slowly she ran her fingers over the skin of her arm "Are you scared Myranda?" her voice was soft, almost soothing as the girl tried to speak, the rag in her mouth stopping her.

"Just nod"

Myranda nodded.

"Do you suppose this is how those girls you hunted felt?"

Myranda nodded.

"Ramsay is a monster Myranda. A monster who can't help himself, there's something wrong with him. Do you know what's even worse than a monster who can't help themselves?"

Myranda shook her head.

"A monster who can. There's nothing wrong with you Myranda, you chose to be like him, to please him. I could bring his dogs down here and let you suffer the same fate as those girls did but I have another use for you. If you behave, you may be allowed a quick death"

Myranda screamed thrashing against her ties, "Oh Myranda, don't be scared, I was showing you a kindness after all, there are a great many things worse than death."


	8. Chapter 8

Sansa's heart beat fast in her chest; the cool air of the open walls a welcome escape from the dungeons. The creaking, clicking iron of the gates being opened sped her as she rushed back to her chamber, disappearing from sight just in time. Roose, Ramsay and their men erupted into the desolate court yard. There was a twisting in the pit of Sansa's stomach, adrenaline, she thought. Until she burst through her chamber door and barely made it to the window in time to empty the contents of her stomach out of it.

Heaving and gasping for breath between wretches she held onto the stone wall to steady herself. Reek hovered nervously in the doorway.

"I can tell them you're unwell"

"No! I just need to…compose myself."

Sansa's heart sunk as she considered the possibility. She hadn't bled since she arrived here… it couldn't be. Anger boiled inside her. That bastard had outdone himself!

"It's a passing sickness. I ran too fast."

Reek nodded, knowing better.

Sansa should have gone to Walda's chamber to wait with her Lord's as they attended to the body. She did not. The thought of decay and Walsa's slimy face slick with sweat turned her sensitive stomach so instead she sat in the hall. A plate of fruit and meat had been placed in front of her by one of the serving girls but she could not bring herself to eat.

Eventually the table was graced with the arrival of the Bolton men, Roose didn't speak as he sat, Ramsay didn't attempt to hide his pleasure that his 'mother' and sibling were no longer a problem.

"Lord Bolton, I am so sorry for your loss. They left this world fighting bravely" Sansa said.

Roose nodded, his face solemn.

"It was a boy" Ramsay added, peeling the skin from his apple with his knife. "Lady Sansa, I hear you tended to my mother dutifully throughout her sudden illness" his voice turned to a playful scolding "that was very foolish of you had it been contagious you could have been killed."

"It was not illness. Haw the Maesteer not explained to you?"

Roose's attention roused immediately.

"The maesteer is with one of my men gravely hurt during our journey back from the dreadfort, he will be with us momentarily."

"Oh" Sansa moved to stand as another wave of nauseas caught her and rolled her stomach "Excuse me, I feel unwell."

"I do not intend to wait, tell us what happened to my wife!" Roose's voice stopped her. His fists gripped the wooden table.

Sansa gulped down the bile which rose in her throat. "Lady Bolton was given a poison to rid her of her child. It is not meant to be used too late…the damage it caused her was too great for her to survive."

"Who?" Roose asked, eyes murderous "Who gave it to her?" He looked down at her with a smirk as she gripped him suddnly. "Sansa, you must tell us how t

Sansa's stomach lurched, acid burnt the back of her throat.

"Your guards searched the castle, they found the poison in one of the serving girl's rooms. She had served myself and Lady Bolton lunch the day Walda fell ill. I think she may have meant it for me. She was seen fleeing the castle shortly after, your men are out searching for her now."

Roose's face was stone, whilst Ramsay fiercely fought back the glee in his eyes.

"Who was it?" Roose's growled.

"Myranda..but she had no reason to hurt Lady Walda and I don't know why she would want to hurt me."

The glee in Ramsay's eyes had turned to horror.

Roose stood silently from the table and hit Ramsay so hard that he fell from his chair, shock apparent as his hand stemmed the bleeding from his nose.

"Your whore killed my wife and my son. No doubt trying to kill yours. You find her and you deal with her Ramsay or it's you who will be dealt with."

Sansa should have enjoyed the sight but the smell of meat from her plate churned her stomach. Nausea drowned her but it happened too quickly to get away. Her body hunched forward she heaved watered wine, the only contents of her stomach, onto the stone floor and shuddered when both men's eyes rested on her.

"Excuse me now, Lord Bolton, it has been a most distressing week"

Roose just nodded, waving her away but Ramsay glared at her incredulously. A mild air of disgust mixed with disbelief.

"I will escort you back to your chamber" he said.

"No, there is no need, I'm find honestly."

"I insist" his eyes burnt amber as he followed her.

They walked the corridor in silence but the moment they entered the chamber his amused voice rang loudly through her as she shuddered.

"Well well little Wolf, these are certainly an interesting turn of events. I leave you in Winterfell for one week alone and come home to chaos." Ramsay touched his thumb to her cheek and Sansa didn't move.

"I missed you" he whispered with hot breath into her ear. Tearing down the laces of her dress she squirmed under his touch. Layers of material bunched around her thighs, his hands moved her roughly until they reached her stomach and slowed. His flat palm pressed against her skin. He was feeling for a….

"Well, there's no swell."

Ramsay let her go and sat on the bed, taking off his thick leather boots.

"I haven't slept in three days Sansa, so I will ask you this once. Am I a father?"

"You're a bastard!" Sansa seethed.

"A bastard who's succeeded in putting a son inside you? Or a bastard who needs to keep trying?" His eyes flashed amber again.

Sansa shook her heard.

"Well then" Ramsay rasped "We'll have to do something about that." His hands firmly gripped her hips, her soft flesh bruised beneath his fingertips.

"Wait"

Ramsay smirked, "Yes?"

"I might be"

"It's not difficult. When did you last bleed?"

Sansa's mouth hung open, she thought she was going to vomit again on the floor.

"You disgust me"

"You're not in Kings Landing anymore." Ramsay smirked.

He flipped her, pinning her down to the bed until her wrists aches.

"Answer me!"

"No"

Ramsay's low chuckle turned Sansa's stomach "I would have taken you either way" he said, freeing his hardness and grinding it against her thigh.

"Reek" Sansa called loudly until the door creaked open. Reeks dirty face appeared filled with joy at the sight of his master.

"What are you doing" Ramsay asked, not angry, curious.

What Ramsay felt next, completely startled him. Sansa trailed rough kisses down his neck, until he was the one on the bed and she towered over him on her knees.

"What are you doing little Wolf?"

"Reek you missed your master, did you not?" Sansa asked

"Yes…yes…very much"

Sansa stroked Ramsay's hardness, it was the first time she'd voluntarily touched it.

"Why don't you show him how much Reek" she said.

A smirk spread across Ramsay's face as he stared intently into her eyes. He watched as she gave reek a nod of encouragement, before the broken man dropped to his knees on the bed beside his master.


	9. Chapter 9

Sansa didn't look away. She watched Ramsay hiss when Reek took his throbbing hardness in his mouth. Ramsay attempted not to writhe in pleasure. Reek was more enthusiastic than she would have been.

His breathing deepened and tiny beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Sansa peeled away her dress until she stood naked beside them. Ramsay let out a throaty groan and forced Reeks head further down onto his length. He was on the edge.

"Sansa" he growled, throwing Reek's head away from him. Sansa took her place straddling him and sank reluctantly down onto him. She could feel every inch of him, every ridge and pulsing vein. His eyes flashed with rage as she picked up his hand and pressed it against her stomach.

"Finish me Wolf" he growled.

Sansa sped up and before sunk down a fourth time she felt the rush of hot liquid. He gripped her thighs and tensed beneath her.

"Go back to the kennel" Reek, Ramsay sunk into the feather pillows and closed his eyes.

"Wait" It was Sansa's voice who stopped him, Ramsay looked suspicious but Sansa lay down beside him undeterred.

"Reek deserves a reward does he not? He was very helpful whilst you were away. Let him sleep at our feet tonight."

Ramsay considered it, waving his hand for Reek to close the door.

"Fine" he said.

* * *

Sansa woke before him. Reek curled in a ball at the bottom of their bed. She nudged him sharply with her foot and whispered "follow me" as they both crept away, to the bowels of the Winterfell dungeons. Less than an hour later, just as the grey sun was rising over Winterfell, Sansa slipped back into the chamber. She laid back down beside the still sleeping Ramsay and placed her hand over her stomach.

"Please no, please no, please no" she muttered to herself. By the time Ramsay woke Sansa was sleeping again.

* * *

A week later she sat alone at the table in the gloomy hall. When Roose arrived he looked for Ramsay.

"Lady Sansa, where is my son?" he looked around the table as they sat alone.

She lowered her eyes "I believe he and his men are hunting Myranda my lord."

Despite the icy demeanour she saw the concern spread in Roose's face.

"It's not like Ramsay to struggle…hunting women." He grimaced.

"It seems she's disappeared. I'm afraid he'll be searching for her for weeks to come."

"No" Roose sighed, sitting down and eating meat from the plate. "I have better uses for Ramsay if he hasn't managed to recover her within the week I'll call off his search."

"He believes you'll hold him to blame"

"I already do" Roose stone walled.

It worked to her advantage that Roose had such a low opinion of Ramsay. Suddenly she let her brightest smile light up her face. He looked shocked when he saw her smile, she looked just like her mother when she did. Roose had always thought Catlyn Tully to be a beautiful woman. He suddenly found himself wishing Sansa smiled more. Though he didn't imagine Ramsay gave her many reasons to smile.

Sansa's voice cut through the room "If you don't mind me saying so My Lord, you are more than adequate company…until Ramsay's relieved of his search."

"Sansa, would you join me for some dornish wine?" Roose poured the wine into two goblets. He didn't speak a great deal to start with. The fire was set behind them and Sansa starred at the goblet wondering what Roose Bolton enjoyed talking about that didn't involve war and death.

"Are you happy here Sansa?" he asked her

"This is my home"

Roose's fist clenched around his goblet.

"Don't do that. Don't give the answer you've rehearsed. I'm not asking you in ceremony. I won't hold your answer against you. I can't imagine you love my son, he's not an easy creature to love."

"No, he is not"

Roose sighed, "I almost killed him you know…and his mother."

"Why didn't you?" Sansa asked

"He was mine, love and loyalty are not the same."

Sansa rolled her eyes sinking into her chair, "I'm grateful that I got to come home, I sincerely mean that. I only wish it had been under different circumstances."

"Such as?" Roose lifted his goblet for her to continue "say what you think Sansa, there's nobody to hear you but me."

"Well my family are dead, my North has been brought to its knee's and my husband's legitimacy hangs on King Tommen's ability to keep the throne. Have you ever met Tommen?" Sansa raised her eyebrow and sighed but Roose simply laughed. It was nothing like a normal laugh, it sounded like a dying horse.

"I have and I wouldn't recommend that you share that concern with Ramsay"

"I already have"

"I see"

"Ramsay won't ever play the game will he?" Sansa asked directly, the air in the room stilling as Roose considered the question.

"No, he will not."

"I would rather it were you."

"You would rather what was me Sansa?" Roose asked.

"I'd rather have married you when I came here. I never did want to be queen, not really. I just wanted to rule the North, my homeland. With my husband at my side."

Roose's eyes flickered with consideration. "I was already married"

"and now you are not. If you'll excuse me I will retire" she said, her chair scraping on the stone floor as she rose "Ramsay will be back soon."

* * *

Ramsay was already back and waiting for her inside her chamber. Every night he returned without Myranda darkened his mood. He had come straight up here because he couldn't face his father empty handed again. He sent Reek to check on Sansa and was told of her drinking and talking with his father.

"Well, isn't this cosy?" he growled from his chair. His hunting knife still splattered with blood was dissecting his meal. His eyes were full of hate "You and my father, what could you possibly have to talk about?"

That's when Sansa finally glimpsed him, the real Ramsay, the scared, rejected, beaten boy who was never good enough for his father.

Another week passed before Roose finally called off Ramsay's search. Ramsay stopped coming to her Chamber and took to glaring at her over the table in the hall. Roose drew out his gradual forgiveness in the most agonising way. Sansa almost felt sorry for Ramsay before it was over.

Roose had not taken Sansa's words lightly. He began to show her more attention and with it his hostility toward Ramsay grew. It was when Roose requested her to have private diners with him that Ramsey finally broke. Three serving girls went missing that night and were found two days later, well parts of them were, in the forest. The pretty blonde girl who had once served Lady Walda became Ramsay's new lover and he flaunted her inside the walls of Winterfell. Sansa could only cringe at Ramsay's crass nature. He wasn't capable of playing the game if he tried. He could only manipulate for torture and fun, not for politics.

"Next time I have a midnight hunt you're coming with me, you can watch" he'd hissed to her when his Roose wasn't watching. He wanted a reaction from her but he didn't get one. Some nights he laid with her, it was not pleasant but she supposed Ramsay didn't intend for it to be. He was punishing her. He didn't hurt her badly though ; Roose wouldn't have liked that. On the nights he didn't lay with her Sansa heard him walk past her chamber. The door would creak open and he would check that she was in there, sleeping; alone. She was Ramsay's toy and the thought of his father playing with her was driving her husband even more insane than he usually was. Sansa enjoyed it; perhaps her and Ramsay weren't all that different after all.

Her plans were working though, all she had to do was stay strong. Ramsay's consumption by his father and Roose's consumption by his own plots were blinding them both to her. Sansa snuck ravens in and out of Winterfell and slipped to the dungeons several times a day without being seen.

Sansa hoped it wouldn't be long now because there was one pressing matter that would be sure to draw both men's attention soon. The sickness hadn't subsided; it had only gotten worse. When she began to feel the slight swell of heaviness in her stomach and her breasts hurt to the touch she could no longer deny it. She was carrying Ramsay's child; she would have to tell him soon.

"The North Remembers" the words were barely a whisper in her chamber, she looked up to see one of the old women carrying her chamber pot away.

"Wait" she called "I need your help. I need you to get me something…."


	10. Chapter 10

The black sky beyond her bedchamber flashed with sporadic bolts of lightning. The stone walls howled with horrific gusts of wind and water trickled through the window and pooled on the stone floor by her feet. It was freezing cold and Sansa was sure that the next clap of thunder may bring the whole crumbling place to a pile of rubble but she couldn't leave her window; she was waiting for the sign.

When the candle lit in the broken tower Sansa knew; it was time. The grey haired servant woman had been true to her word, the message had arrived, Stannis's troupes were within ridding distance of Winterfell. She felt powerful finally. Reek cowered in the doorway as she spoke, starring into the dark night sky.

"Reek, you know what to do." He nodded as he scurried away. Sansa didn't move; she was waiting for Ramsay. No doubt he would be here any second.

A moment later Ramsay stormed into the room, shirtless; leather straps for his daggers adorning his chest and a malicious smirk of glee on his face.

"War has found us and I'm riding out to greet it. You can wait up for me, I'll be back before dawn with a belt of heads." A massacre of this proportion was Ramsay's idea of a great night out. He would break his frustrations tonight on a sea of men who would all bare his father's face.

Sansa stiffened. "No you won't"

"What?"

"You'll be dead before dawn Ramsay" she smiled sweetly, the way he did when he played with people. "Your father's men are going to hand you over to Stannis and allow him to kill you before passing through the North unopposed."

Ramsay's face fell, he dropped his sword to the bed and snarled at her like a cornered dog. "You lie."

"Why would I do that? What would I gain? You know in Kings Landing I learnt that's the key to success. Always know what someone stands to lose or gain by your demise. The people who only stand to lose by your demise, they're the people you can trust."

Ramsay glowered at her "If it were true you wouldn't tell me. You'd let me die and no doubt marry my father by the weeks out. You would be Lady Bolton and you'd have the nobleman you desired."

"Good," Sansa said, "but I'd have a nobleman who killed my mother and brother."

"If I'd been there I'd have killed them too." Ramsay snarled

"But you weren't and you didn't. I'd rather have a bastard than the man who murdered my family."

Ramsay thought hard, "It's not enough, you could try to escape. You could let me die and escape him. Or kill him if you're as calculated and clever as you consider yourself. There's got to be something else, something you're not telling me."

Reek reappeared through the door, paling when he saw Ramsay. "It is done Lady Sansa."

"What's done?" Ramsay snarled.

Sansa cleared her throat, "I'm carrying your child." Her statement succeeded in bringing Ramsay's attention back to her. "You're right, there was something I wasn't telling you. The reason I won't run but instead intend to stand my ground and keep my home. I'm done running."

"My son or my brother?" Ramsay growled picking his sword back up from the bed.

"I haven't laid with your father and you know that. You would have found out if I had, I know you've been keeping tabs on me. Given how swollen I've become I imagine it happened rather soon after my arrival here."

Ramsay stood in the doorway, unsure what to do. Sansa could see the wheels of his mind working; deciding what action to take next. Would he believe her, or would he kill her? Sansa didn't wait to find out; she left. Half expecting him to stop her at the door, he didn't. He let her pass and watched her walk the corridor. A few minutes later she heard his footsteps behind her own and could only conclude that he had made the right choice. After all; there was no dagger in her back. Yet.

* * *

She never once turned to look at him as he followed her, she stormed the corridor, the queen of her home castle back at last. When his father's bedchamber loomed Ramsay didn't hold back, he followed his wife as she entered without knocking. The sight before him left him speechless. His father lay ashen on the bed and two scared looking servant girls fled past him on their way to the door.

Roose gasped for breath; Sansa stood silently at the end of the bed.

"What did you do?" He asked.

"Everything."

"Fat Walda and the child?"

"Yes"

"Myranda?"

"I have her" Sansa muttered.

"My father? You played him. You made me think that…and now you've poisoned him?"

"Yes"

"You clever little bitch."

* * *

Silence filled moment passed,

"Ramsay, only one of you can walk away from tonight alive. You know that." Sansa said.

She'd half expected Ramsay to falter or at the very least show some level of turmoil in taking his own father's life. He didn't. His sword was drawn from his belt in an instant and plunged straight through Roose's heart. If he had one.

"Well" Sansa said, taking in the sight. Ramsay looked at her like a child opening a gift. "We're ahead of schedule. Good. I do like to be one step ahead."

Back through the corridors Sansa marched; toward the great hall. Ramsay's heart raced as he chased her with no idea what was coming next. When he arrived through the doors six of his father's guard lay dead, poisoned no doubt by Sansa's hand.

Of the handful of men still on their feet, none of them looked specifically familiar. Background faces in his father's army.

"The North remembers" they chorused when Sansa stood before them. Things were finally beginning to make sense.

"Ready your horses, spread the word and open the gates" Sansa instructed. She turned to leave for the dungeon but Ramsay's voice stopped her.

"No!" She snarled but the men left anyway on his wife's orders.

Sansa turned to him, her face expressionless "Ramsay you either trust me tonight or you do not. Trying to retain your control or straddling the fence of trust like it's your favourite horse will get us both killed and…I don't want to die tonight; do you?"

"No" he snarled.

"Then we are agreed. Come I have a gift for you." With that they departed for the dungeons.

* * *

He followed her and Reek through the maze of tunnels. He didn't recognise this part, which was surprising, he considered himself to be familiar with the dungeons. They reached an almost invisible door built into a dark wall, she stopped and turned to him.

"I don't know how you will like this but I must insist on one thing; do not try to help her."

Sansa's words sent a chill down his spine. He would bet his sword he knew who was waiting behind these doors; but in what condition he had no clue. Reek had clearly been here earlier to light the few torches that burnt on the walls inside. The body of a girl hanging by her arms filled the centre of the room. A sack was tied over her head.

"Did you miss me?" Sansa asked and the sack nodded.

"Everything we have been working toward, comes down to tonight. Do you understand?"

The sack nodded again.

"Good" Sansa soothed, "...and you know what you must do. We've practised it haven't we?

The sack nodded again.

Oh Myranda Ramsay grinned…how the mighty had fallen.


	11. Chapter 11

Sansa pulled away the thick burlap to reveal Myranda dazed and withdrawn to the light. The gad quickly followed until Myranda gasped for breath and then Sansa spoke words which sent an unexpected shiver down Ramsay's spine.

"Now tell me what you did"

Unhooking Myranda's arms from their shackles the girl fell to the floor and cowered at Sansa's feet. Ramsay's knew the look in her eyes all too well, he'd seen it the night that he finally broke reek.

"…I... put herbs in the Lady Bolton's tea so that she would lose the child, I meant it to be you but mixed up the cups."

"Good, go on."

"…I fled Winterfell and hid in the woods. Ramsay found me and brought me here to be punished. I escaped tonight and killed Lord Bolton. I took a dagger to his heart. I deserve to be punished for what I've done."

Ramsay felt the cold sting of realisation that he'd married a woman he'd never met; until this night. The Stark wolf he'd wanted stood before him and he couldn't help feeling a small curdle of sour pride. Whether he had pushed her to this, or whether it had always been there deep inside, he'd brought out the cold hearted killer in Sansa Stark, he was a glorious monster to be sure.

Sansa smiled in satisfaction "and you will swear all of this in front of Stannis Baratheon and throw yourself on his mercy?"

Myranda nodded.

"Take her to the courtyard Reek. Have Stannis and his men notified, we will be dressed to greet them when they arrive. Lower the guard, we are not at war, they are our guests."

Reek took Myranda firmly but there was no need, she was broken, she went with him willingly.

Ramsay smiled sadistically from the shadows "I liked my gift little wolf, it's a shame I won't get to keep it."

"This night will be long and full of surprises, not all of them you will like. One false move Ramsay and you won't have to mourn Myranda. We'll both be following her to the grave."

Ramsay looked intrigued "You think I will mourn her? Wife, it's as though you don't know me at all."

Sansa sighed looking at Ramsay's bare apparel and leather bound chest, he looked demonic and could never receive Stannis like this. "You need to change; you have to appear respectable."

Ramsay followed her through the underground tunnels of the dungeons towards the night sky above. "You've invited a foreign army into my walls. Were you planning to consult me, or on sharing your plan?"

"No"

"That wasn't a suggestion." Ramsay snarled

"No, it was a question and I answered it."

They had almost reached the bedchamber by now and the corridors were humming with whispers. The men, the staff…everyone had emerged from hiding to find out what was happening. Was there going to be a war tonight?

Ramsay flung his arm across her door, stopping her and blocking her entry. "Why are you bringing them in here? Why are you throwing Myranda on their mercy? What are you up to?"

Sansa's grey eyes met his gleaming back ones "I need something from him." Ducking swiftly bellow Ramsay's arm she escaped into her bed chamber and closed the thick oak door.

"I won't bend the fucking knee!" she heard him shout before his thick leather boots beat on the stone floor. Oh he would! He'd hate it and Sansa would enjoy every second of it.

* * *

Mere minutes later the horns were sounded, gates thrown open and the thunder of a hundred hooves descended. Sansa stood in the courtyard, a new clean dress tied onto her frail body, the blood wiped from her hands and face and Baratheon banners reflecting in her eyes. She looked as she always did, courteous and meek, like a true lady beside her husband. Ramsay stood solemn his jaw tight and eyes wild. He wore his father's fur cape and sword, he was every inch the warden of the North now. He tightened his grip on the sword when Stannis dismounted, Sansa stroked his arm in mocked affection until he released it. Behind them in the place of a household stood a barrage of Ramsay's bastards boys. A daunting sight for any arrival Stannis eyed them cautiously before approaching Ramsay. He shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable with ceremony that he hadn't been raised for or practised.

"Lady Stark" Stannis's eyes landed firmly on her as they danced over her flame red hair.

"My king" She felt Ramsay tense until a moment passed and Stannis redirected his attention reluctantly from her.

"Lord Bolton, I am sorry to hear of your father's untimely death and grateful for your hospitality under the circumstances." His words said that was he was sorry...but his face did not. With a curt nod he waited, a long moment of silence passed and Sansa dug her fingernails into Ramsay's arm spurring the reply. This would be a union or a massacre and Sansa was betting everything on the first; for now.

Ramsay smirked "You are most welcome my King"

Sansa let out a deep sigh of relief.

"Though I do have a problem I wish to bring to your attention" Ramsay continued.

"A problem?" Stannis questioned

"Indeed, I have caught the culprit of my stepmother, father and unborn sibling's death." He motioned to the two guards still holding Myranda to come forward.

Sansa spoke up in her crispest Kings Landing voice "We would usually have dealt with the matter ourselves but given the severity of the allegations and the murder of the warden of the North. It is only right that the true king pass judgement on the matter."

Stannis nodded, "I agree."

"We turn her over to your mercy." Sansa curtseyed with a pale face as Myranda was brought forward. Ramsay listened to Sana's words intently. He watched her playing her part. His father had always told him that true born boys were taught to fight with swords whilst true born girls were taught to dance with words...until this moment he hadn't fully understood what he meant by dance, Sansa was dancing right now, not a dance of pleasure to a background of music, a dance of manipulation to a background of danger.

Stannis glowered down on Myranda, his eyes like stone they bore into the girl. "Speak your piece of the allegations put against you." He said.

Myranda stumbled over he words, "I loved Ramsay…Lord Bolton, when he was a bastard" the crowd gasped though Sansa suspected it was news to no one. "I tried to give Lady Stark moon tea to stop her bearing him a son but I mixed the cups and Lady Walda suffered the fate instead. I fled and hid in the woods as Lord Roose Bolton ordered me killed. When Ramsay found me he brought me back here to face Roose Bolton but I escaped and killed him before he could kill me." Her eyes welled up.

Stannis looked down on the dirty servant girl, a pretty little thing, once, he imagined. He glanced over to Sansa who gave a curt nod before he addressed the girl one more.

"Are there any further sins you wish to admit to before I pass sentence?"

Ramsay tensed, this whole charade was getting him off. He felt himself stiffen and twitch in his groin. He glanced to the stiff lady Sansa beside him, she was unrecognisable as the girl in the dungeons only moments ago. He could take her right here in front of his men and Stannis, on the floor in the dirt. He'd make her scream with pleasure whilst they all watched. His mind drifted… until he heard Myranda begin to speak again.

"Yes my Lord, I…I" she willed herself to continue as the large crowd watched "I wanted Ramsay for myself, I wanted the world to think him a monster. Whenever I heard his bed had been warmed by another I would take the girl, drug them and then hunt them through the forest and bring them down with my arrows. I wanted people to be scared of Ramsay so that he would need me. Ramsay is a bloodthirsty warrior, it was not difficult to make them believe."

Sansa couldn't be sure but she thought she heard Ramsay gasp as the confession rang out across the court yard.


	12. Chapter 12

He couldn't quite believe what had just happened, the tension in the courtyard filled him with unquantifiable amounts of glee, this may be the best day of his life he thought to himself as he glanced to his wife who had silent tears streaming down her face. Oh his naughty little actress. They had a secret no one else knew of and he loved it. He took a deep breath waiting for Stannis to pass judgement but what happened next felt his face the colour of ash…gods be damned she'd done it again.

Stannis tensed as he looked out over the appalled crowd "Did you act alone, with no instruction from any other party?"

Myranda shook her head, "No I did not act alone, my actions were sanctioned by another, one who wished to see the North fall, I was promised that should I remove Lady Sansa and Lord Roose, that I would be the next Lady of Winterfell. As long as….I gave them Lady Sansa Starks head." Myranda fell to her knee's still watching Sansa who gave her the most subtle of nods that even Ramsay barely caught.

The crowd gasped as an uproar started, Ramsay could see himself stiffen his feet seemingly melted to the floor, he felt a cold shudder run through him that he had never experienced before. Glancing around he knew that should Myranda say his name, he would not be able to fight his way out, not with the thousands of men stannis had waiting beyond their gates. His men were not assembled, a few hundred stood in the courtyard now but the rest still lay in his camps beyond the woods. He would never be able to get word to them in time.

He glanced over at Sansa, who looked at him with cold blue eyes and a smirk that showed she knew exactly what he was thinking. He growled, she was enjoying this, she was taking pleasure in watching him squirm, just as he had her.

Stannis brought up his hand to quieten the crowd. "Who's instructions were those" his glare penetrated the girls very sole and she wept in front of him her words a gasp "Cersei Lannister…the queen regent."

The crowd fell into uproar, shouting, screaming, beats of drums echoed across the courtyard as Stannis drew his sword and muttered words that could barely be heard above the crowd.

Sansa threw a forceful look to Ramsay, before instantly swooning and falling to the floor at the news, she smirked as Ramsay caught her, several servant girls rushing to her aid. She smiled, as though anyone could think the news of Cersei wanting her dead to come as a shock.

By the time she rose, Myranda's decapitated body was being tied to a wooden pole as fire wood was scattered around the base.

Stannis stood before her with his dozen men and bloody sword, she smiled "Thank you, for bestowing your justice, my King" Sansa dropped to a curtsey as she glared toward Ramsay. He had a split second to consider it but knew his options were none. He bent the knee, kneeling in front of Stannis. Rising he smiled through gritted teeth, "The North stands with you my king."

Sansa ushered Lord Stannis and his men inside to where a lavish feast was waiting, music played as they took their seats. She could feel the tension building as Ramsay sat by her side, his polite conversation becoming strangled, he did not like not knowing what was taking place around him, he did not suit losing control especially to her. She stood up silently raising her hand to her stomach and her other nervously to her mouth, "My king I must excuse myself, I am suddenly nauseas" Stannis nodded curtly as Ramsay dutifully rose beside her and followed her from the room. Ramsay's personal guard seemed to have made fast friends with Stannis's men who all sat drinking, talking and crudely handling serving girls across the hall.

He stopped her the moment they reached the other side of the doors, his eyes dark his grasp on her shoulders frim, pulling her into a small empty stable room he grimaced "What…was that? We do not fight for Stannis, we are the North!"

His wild eyes gleamed as he watched her smirk.

She wasn't afraid of him, not at all, there was nothing he could do to her tonight, not now, not with Stannis's men sat only meters away and Stannis himself there."

"Be careful Ramsay, need I remind you that you are unaware of my plan, if you disable me now you will be left to face this alone and I don't imagine that will end well." She seethed, her face inches from his as he looked taken a back at her tone toward him. "You need me" she whispered menacingly and he felt sick as he realised it was true.

His eyes remained firm "We do not fight for Stannis, we are the North, I am the warden of the North, it is my land, my men, my choice." His voice was loud as her hot breath hit her skin.

Her eyes rolled and she watched him tighten his fist, she smiled as she spoke sweetly "You don't see anything do you?" she turned her back to him her long dress skirting around her as she turned rolling her eyes "What am I saying, of course you don't, you were taught to fight, you're a warrior" her eyes skirted over him as he turned a dark shade of crimson with frustration "You weren't raised to play this game were you? I forget sometimes" Her frozen eyes glared at him as she tensed her long neck and spoke through gritted teeth "You're the warden of the North because I made it so, consider how many time so far this evening I could have had you killed." Her words hit him like a knife as he flew forward forcing her against the stone wall, his hands wrapping around her throat and releasing only when he felt the brush of her swollen stomach against his chest.

She gasped for breath contempt filling her eyes as she spat words at him "Your father was made Warden of the North Ramsay, until mine and Tyrion's son came of age that was the proclamation of the small council, you were never to inherit this, that's why you were naturalised. You didn't know about that did you?" She watched his face fall "You have lands and men now but you won't, when the other Northern Lords turn on you…which they will the moment Cersei Lannister officially pulls her allegiance to our house, which she already has in Kings landing, she ordered Petyr to retrieve both of our heads the day she heard of our marriage."

She watched as the information sunk in and Ramsay moved backwards across the room. Her voice strengthened, darkened and assaulted him in the most crippling manner, "You are not a Lord Ramsay, you are a Bastard with an insatiable talent for war and winning. I can make you a Lord, a real Lord in your own right. With me to hide the short comings of your illegitimate birth, to fill in the lapses in your education, to cover your lack of grace, poise and ceremony we can rule the North… but without it, you will fail. You have your strengths, ones that will surely keep us both alive at many points but do not be arrogant enough to believe you will be accepted, not by them, not in Kingslanding. You are no better than a child learning to read with half an alphabet, no matter how much you bully, torture or manipulate those around you…you still can't read properly you're just faking your way through it and hoping for the best but you will get caught out, Kingslanding is not the North, you won't survive it"

She moved close to him until her face was but inches away from his, she reached down the dagger that lay in his belt and pressed it to his hand raising it to her throat as she starred into his eyes "Ramsay, enter that hall by my side and trust me, or kill me now but know this, if you ever lay a hand on me again, I will have you killed."

Her eyes were full of fire as he growled at her, "Say it" he spat "Say that I am Lord Bolton, Ruler of the north."

Her thin lips curled into a smile as she whispered "You are a rabid wolf, on the end of my tether but with me guiding you, we will rule over more than just the North."

She felt the blade drop from her neck as he stepped aside, following her back to the hall as she left.


	13. Chapter 13

The night was drawing to an end as the men moved their rowdy celebrations to the courtyard, to share the left over ale and wine with the other men who had already begun their own festivities outside.

Sansa sat opposite Stannis in the newly quiet hall, the dark light of candles flickering across them both as Ramsay loomed by her side.

Stannis's two closest men sat on either side of him, they were supposedly his advisors but Sansa new better to believe that Stannis followed the advice of anyone other than the Witch he'd left beyond their walls. Yes, she'd heard all about him and his...ways.

He spoke to Sansa directly in a low voice "Your choice was a wise one young Stark, I see a great deal of your father in you and I always held Ned Stark in high regard. You were born to govern the North, as your son will be."

She nodded in gratitude, the man sat to his side spoke in a low voice, Sansa recognised him as Lord Carlton, rumoured to be a noble and trusted advisor in Stannnis's quest for the iron throne but a stout meek and portly man in person.

"My King, the Bolton house will undoubtedly face question, despite Lady Sansa's strong claim, Lord Bolton…" he lowered his eyes "…Lord Bolton was born a bastard."

Sansa's hand flew to the tensed Ramsay who had already wrapped his hand firmly around his sword and she felt him grimace at the word.

Her touch held him back as he waited, sensing yet again that something was about to happen. Stannis's cold, hard face stayed entirely expressionless as he starred into Sansa's eyes with a nod. His voice a quiet growl "You are mistaken Lord Carlton, Ramsay Bolton was the first born son of Lord Roose Bolton and Lady Ryswell, your father was present the day of his birth was he not?" He looked to Sansa who nodded "I believe he was your grace."

Stannis glanced to Lord Carlton who sat beside him "A nasty business what happened to the honourable Ned Stark, he was a good and Loyal friend to my brother before the Lannister's had them both slaughtered in an attempt to take the throne for their inbred bastards." His words were forceful, he was not giving an opinion, it was clear that he was writing the truth as the world would know it under his reign."

He looked to Ramsay who sat stunned in his seat "I heard you were raised in the country, a sickly boy were you not? I recall your father doubting you would make it past infancy, but you look strong now." He held out a piece of rolled parchment to Sansa who took it gracefully with a smile and unrolled it, her eyes skimming over the contents.

Ramsay could feel the frustration bubbling inside him as he watched her, he wanted to know what was on that parchment and she knew it, she was purposely taking her time, running her eyes twice over certain parts before she handed it to him.

Her eyes fixed on Stannis she smiled and the voiceless man on Stannis's other side offered her a quill and ink "You honour us" she dipped her eyes as she scrawled on the parchment.

Sansa's face remained emotionless as she blew gently on the ink and handed it to Ramsay looking down a Crass grin spread across his face as he heard Stannis's voice above the room "The order of your birth, Ramsay Bolton, Son of Lord Roose Bolton and Lady Bethany Rysell. Signed by myself and Lord Eddard Stark in the week of your birth."

Ramsay looked over the signatures, the ink of Eddard Starks's still glistening where wet, he had to admit though, his clever wife could sign her late father's name just as well as the man himself. The year of his birth had adjusted slightly but he wasn't opposed to two years age difference if it allowed him to finally be a legitimate son.

"Stannis turned to the Lord who held once again held the quill and ink "Tell me…what do you know of Lord Ramsay Bolton?" the man paused for a moment before he took a breath, "He is the first born son of Lord Roose Bolton and Lady Bethany Bolton, Warden of the North, My king…I have never heard any different."

Sansa allowed herself a glance to her side where she saw Ramsay's ecstatic grin.

Ramsay looked directly at Stannis before speaking "My men and I will march with you tomorrow at first light. We will join you in your siege on the capital." Stannis nodded.

"Leave at least twenty men to begin repairs to this place, It saddens me to see Winterfell is such a state. It shall be returned to its former glory before the Winter is through." He looked to Sansa,

"I will see you in the morning." With that he raised himself and they all departed.

She felt him following her, along the corridor and to her chamber door, she could hear his heavy breathing, she could smell the sweat, dirt and blood, she heard the footsteps of his personal guard behind him.

It wasn't untill she reached the door that his hand appeared, still leather bound and dirty it grasped at her shoulder, she felt the hot breath on her neck as he followed her through. His growl of command to his men, they were not to leave that door until first light. No one was the enter or exit under any circumstances.

She entered to see her small blonde hand maid, filling the bath with warm water for her. Her eyes widened as she saw Ramsay following her mistress in. Her eyes pleaded to be released and with a nod Sansa gave her the kindness, watching as the girl scurried out past the guards then looking to Ramsay himself and wishing she could be released from his presence the same way.


	14. Chapter 14

She started to unlace her dress until she felt Ramsays hands take over from her own. Her voice was strong and indignant as she stared straight ahead at her waiting bath. "You will not take me tonight, or any night, you will not take me again unless I ask it of you." Her heart raced and for a moment she scolded herself, she could play this dangerous game endlessly and feel nothing but Ramsay… made her feel vulnerable, a little at least.

He was silent as he kept unlacing her dress until she felt it fall to the floor and pool around her ankles. She turned to see his eyes on her, different to any look he had given her before. He wasn't looking at her as a play thing, as entertainment, was it possible that Ramsay Bolton was looking at her as his own equal. His usually malicious gaze was filled with curiosity and intrigue.

She could see it in his eyes, he saw strength in her, she had taken him by surprise, he had a new found respect for her and he did not need to speak to voice it, although she really wanted him to, she wanted the satisfaction of hearing his words.

His eyes locked with hers as she felt his fingers brush slowly down her bare chest and come to a stop on her slightly swollen stomach.

His voice was low "If that is what you wish, I give my word."

She scoffed, "Your word is worth nothing to me, I was warning you not looking for your agreement."

She felt him tense but he kept his hand pressed to her stomach, his eyes locked with hers, "I give you my word on the life of our son, I will not force myself upon you." There was still the amusements there, hidden in the depths of his dark eyes, Ramsay was pacified not forgotten. The man who treated her despicably was still there and it made her sick to see but yet she found herself believing him in that moment.

Sansa smiled "And you will not take whores, not until I tell you so, I have cleared your name I will not stand by and watch you sully it again. Not If we are to rise in power, there is too much at stake over these coming months."

He glared, taking a deep breath to rebuff her request but then paused and nodded his head softly in agreement. She was surprised he had taken it so graciously but he was not stupid, he knew she was right.

Pulling away she climbed into the bath, dropping one leg after the other into the warm water. Hissing as it met her cold skin.

"You may leave me now, my lord" she looked over to him and saw in horror that he was removing his own clothing "What are you doing?" her elegant cheek pressed to the side of the tub as she curiously watched him walk toward her completely naked, it was a sight she had come to loathe but she knew that from objective view point Ramsay was considered attractive.

His eyes glimmered "I believe I said I would not force myself upon you, not that I would avoid your presence. If you think that I am leaving my wife and son unguarded in a castle full of Baratheon soldiers you are mistaken." He climbed into the bath sliding down into the water opposite her. "It's not hot enough" he looked around for the servant girl who wasn't there.

"I can't have it too hot, it can cause child loss and I am well guarded, are there not a dozen men at my door, Stannis will not attack me in the night he is a man of honour."

Ramsay softened his frown for a moment, "All men are men of honour…until they are not and I assure you, no man here would defend you with the same ferocity I would should it come to that."

She hated to admit it but he was right. Should any danger come to her, she knew Ramsay would lay down his life for that of his son and no man alive derived more sadistic enjoyment from a fight than he did. It did strike her that she would sleep sounder knowing he lay between her and the door tonight.

She smiled, "I am coming with you tomorrow" she watched his face turn to thunder, "Like hell you are! You will not leave Winterfell, not over my dead.."

She cut him off, "Over your dead body, that is exactly the way I will leave Winterfell if you try to stop me." She sunk back into the water, as her eyes locked with him and she sighed finally explaining to him "Stannis does not want to take on the Lannisters whilst they lay within the walls of kings landing. Petyr has already passed work to Cersei that you surrendered your men to Stannis after I killed your father and tried to escape, she's been told that you handed me to Stannis in order that he spare your life to mourn your father and you let him pass peacefully through the North. An agreement has been reached between Stannis and Cersei, he will bring her me and she will give him the throne."

Ramsay's eyes burned "She wouldn't!" he scowled across the water at her.

Sansa sighed again scooping up the warm water and pouring it down the sode of her long neck. "Whether she actually does or not is no concern of ours but things are not as they seem in Kings Landing Ramsay, I cannot tell you what I know but I implore you to take my word. Cersei is facing losing the city either way" her hand dropped to her stomach and she began to run small circles over the skin, her voice cleared as she sank into the water further and met her pale blue eyes to his wistfully.

"Cersei Lannister once told me that I would never be able to love Joffrey, he was a monster, but that I would love our children despite him. I thought it impossible, how could anyone love the children of such a beast."

She watched as Ramsay's eyes softened, she glanced down to her stomach "but now I understand, I have yet to feel him move and I already love him with all of my heart. I will see him rule, I will guide him through his life, he will know his father. You must trust me Ramsay, I'm the only chance you have."


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi all, I just wanted to say a huge thank you for the reviews, I've got another few paragraphs pre written and there is a strong storyline it follows, those of you wanting lemons for Ransa wont be disappointed...but that's all I'm saying!**

 **I really love hearing your feedback and I read every one of your comments as soon as they come in! So please please please review!**

 **For any of you who read my Harry potter fics, apologies for the long delay on updating, I don't have anymore pre written and I'm currently putting the finishing touches to my own book! exciting times.**

 **I'm such a huge fan of a strong storyline and a dark romance so I figured I'd have a go at creating my own novel. Not so much GOT themed though, although it does have a fantasy element, as all the best plots do!**

It took almost six weeks on the road before reports were made that they were nearing kings landing. Over twice the time it usually would but the men where slow, laden with heavy luggage for camps along the way and tired with the cold and lack of good food.

It had been a terrible six weeks, Winter had truly arrived and it felt as though they were fleeing it. With Ramsay's men and those of the other Northern Lords who Ramsay brutally slaughtered along the way under Stannis's direction, their company stood at almost two hundred thousand strong and was a fearsome sight to behold.

It had stung slightly to see the houses she knew so well, fall to Stannis and Ramsay but she reminded herself that the North was no longer her North, these were houses which had sworn loyalty to Roose Bolton. She watched the house of Frey burn to the ground with a smile on her face and regretted nothing. Stannis had discussed this with her at length, having so many different houses with individual leadership was a problem in itself, peasants were starving whilst lords lived in luxury, secret alliances were being formed and uprisings were being planned. This was not the way he intended to run his kingdoms, he would have a tighter grasp on all, with one man answerable for all. He appeared to trust her, he told her his plans when she relayed Petyr's information to him, she supposed he didn't have a great deal of choice in trusting her though, Petyr was her insurance, Stannis needed him and he worked through her.

It was late evening as she sat across from Ramsay at their small dinner table "He intends to give you the entire North, there will be no more Lords, no more houses, the entire North will be ours to do with as we see fit." Her voice was cool as she finally relayed the information she'd been holding for weeks to him, he had been true to his word and with the exception of two trips to local whore houses they had passed, he had been perfectly pleasant…to her. He thought she didn't know about, the whore houses he'd been discreet but she did know, she knew everything but was astute enough to pick her battled with him. Plus, what he had done with those women by all accounts could not be classed as breaking his vow to her, he had not taken them, he had only pleasured himself with them.

She heard whispers about his violent outbursts with the men but he was commanding eighty thousand men of his own, occasional violent outburst were needed.

He slept next to her each night, more a guard dog than a husband. The only time she had requested that he touch her was the night she felt their child move for the first time. Now she would let him lay his hand softly over her stomach whilst they slept, she resolved herself not to soften to him but in a camp full of two hundred thousand men, some of whom hadn't been with a women in months, it made her feel safe, his heavy breathing, his grasp on her stomach, on her thigh, it made her feel safe.

He looked pleased at the news, his voice growled "I had assumed so, he should speak directly to me, not pass messages through my wife." He placed his cup heavily onto the table with a disgruntled frown as the tent around them shuddered in the wind, at least it was warmer now they approached the capital, a little at least.

Ramsay grimaced, "We shall arrive at our camp the day after tomorrow, you will be left with your servant girls and ten thousand of my men whilst I lead the first assault on the capital."

She couldn't help but admire the way he approached war, there was no fear, he did not cower or contemplate his downfall. He spoke the facts as though it were the most natural thing in all the kingdoms, he was born to lead his army into battle. Fearless, ruthless, merciless and bloodthirsty.

There was something endearing about his certain level of blood hungry bravery, when facing a battle at least, not so much on an average day.

It was the dead of night when she lay silently next to him in bed, the tent shrouded in the pitch black of the night. She felt his arm draped across her, his hand pressed to her stomach as it so often was. His heavy breathing, he was laid on his back again, she didn't need to see him to know that, they'd shared a bed for too long now.

She was waiting, she had been waiting since dinner but knew she must not be overheard, cold adrenaline ran through her, this was the riskiest move she would make and she could feel her heart pounding at the very thought.

"Ramsay" her voice rasped quietly and she reached for him, he caught her hand before she could reach him. A thick smile spread over her lips and she saw the glint of his eyes in the dark. She knew he slept lightly, always watching, waiting for anything amiss. She felt his hand curl more firmly around her stomach, pulling her to him as his voice rasped.

"Are you going to beg me to take you" she heard the sly smile, the amusement in his tone. She turned heavily until she faced him, her nose pressed to his, the bed sheets wrapped around them. Her voice strained to sound stern through the whisper "I need you to listen to me and I need you to listen carefully."

She heard him take a breath, his body tensing and his eyes focusing as he nodded, he'd grown used to her revelations of essential information, he knew better than to ignore them but the fear in her eyes, her choosing to wait to the dead of night…this was important he was sure.

"You will not leave me at camp, you will not stop to build a camp. At first light you will march your men straight for Kingslanding and you will not stop until you are there"

She felt him as he smirked "You think I'm about to…" her hand on his mouth quietened him and despite a startled bite she held firm.

"Listen to me, I'm not finished. You will leave anything you can here, leave the tents and the women if you must. Fill the carts with men, as many as possible, if you move quickly and without stopping you can make it in a few hours." She could feel him breathing heavily against her palm"

"Cersei Lannister has been imprisoned by the high septor, so has Queen Margery and Lord Laurence. The Tyrell house is in up roar, King Tomlin has lost control of his city. Jamie is away in Dorne retrieving his daughter and Tyrion has disappeared. The Lannister empire has never been weaker. You must strike now, as soon as possible before anything changes." She felt him nod.

" We are ahead of Stannis, we have less men, we will travel faster, You will arrive before him and the moment you do you go to the sparrows, kill all of them, every last one." She could see his eyes light up at her instruction, she glowered with caution in her voice.

"Do not kill Cersei, Margery or Laurence. You must go to the dungeon's yourself and you take them to the iron throne. Petyr will be waiting for you there, you take Margery, Laurence and Cersei to him. Whatever happens, whatever he says, whatever he does, you must not hurt him, he is our key. You must trust me. I must go with you, I have to be there, its imperative to the plan."

She released her hand from his mouth and looked into his eyes, he could see the genuine fear in her eyes, she needed him to trust her and he did. He'd seen the same look that night in the stable at Winterfell. He nodded and without another word crashed his mouth to hers. It was a brief kiss, she bit down the moment she felt his tongue in her mouth, he recoiled with a smirk "Just in case I die tonight."

She felt his weight lift from the bed and watched in horror as he called for his men. They came running with torches, her heart flew as fear spread through her and her arms wrapped around her stomach. His voice growled "Light my room, wake the men, leave everything behind that is not needed for battle and load up the carts with any man who cannot run at the pace I will ride, Kingslanding is at its weakest we must strike now!"

The men light the torches and turned to leave and the tent flooded with light "My Lord, shall we wake Lady Sansa's hand maids, are we still to leave men to guard them?" one of the guards stood at the tent door as Ramsay smiled "No, my wife will be joining us and I will dress her." Sansa laughed at the guards face but he scurried away all the same.

"I said at first light." Her eyes followed him as he pulled her dress from the chair and held it out to her with a smirk.

"Oh but you've promised me a blood bath" his eyes glimmered "Do you really expect me to sleep now with that excitement."

Within ten minutes the men had been roused, they were dressed for battle and raring to go. She sat in the largest cart, watching as Ramsay rode his large armoured horse through the thousands of men, they moved quickly through the night, she closed her eyes and lay her body down on the pillows. Several of her girls had been woken and put in the cart with her to ensure her comfort and safety. She could hear Ramsay shouting at the masses, she would give him this, he was a brilliant army commander. He rallied his men in the same way she'd seen her father do it, Ramsay's men were terrified of him but they respected him. He had lead every single one of his battles, he'd fought side by side with his men, he would be the first onto the battle field and the last off of it. She smiled to herself, If the seven Kingdoms were one Army, Ramsay would be the perfect man to sit atop the iron throne.


	16. Chapter 16

Within ten minutes the men had been roused, they were dressed for battle and raring to go. She sat in the largest cart, watching as Ramsay rode his large armoured horse through the thousands of men, they moved quickly through the night, she closed her eyes and lay her body down on the pillows. Several of her girls had been woken and put in the cart with her to ensure her comfort and safety. She could hear Ramsay shouting at the masses, she would give him this, he was a brilliant army commander. He rallied his men in the same way she'd seen her father do it, Ramsay's men were terrified of him but they respected him. He had lead every single one of his battles, he'd fought side by side with his men, he would be the first onto the battle field and the last off of it. She smiled to herself, If the seven Kingdoms were one Army, Ramsay would be the perfect man to sit atop the iron throne.

The same rocking of the cart that had lulled her to sleep, woke her suddenly and with a start. They had stopped, why had they stopped and why couldn't she hear Ramsay shouting anymore. The girls opposite her sat silent, she felt her heart beating furiously in her chest…why couldn't she hear him?

As she raised the canvas of the cart the view took her breath away as she sighed, Kingslanding.

"You're awake", his voice growled, she looked down to see Ramsay, his horse rearing as he turned it toward where she sat. Here they were, the sight took her breath away, eighty thousand men lying in wait amongst the treeline overlooking Kings landing.

None of the defences she had expected were in place, it looked like a normal day in the city, looking down she smirked "They aren't expecting us, are they?"

Ramsay shook his head, "We arrived a few minutes ago, the men moved quickly, they are asserting themselves before we storm. I will leave you here with one thousand of my men and I will return for y.."

"No" Sansa moved to the edge of the cart. Her eyes locked with his firmly "No, you will take me with you. I have to take the city by your side, you must get me to the iron throne Ramsay before you do anything else, we have at least three times the men of the Lannister Army and they're miles away."

His face hardened "What do you want me to do? Do you understand what you're asking me to do!" he glared at her when she nodded her head.

Her eyes burnt fiercely with determination "Yes…I do, but if anyone can do it Ramsay, you can."

He nodded. Holding out his hand he allowed her to climb down and sit atop his saddle. "Are you ready to ride into war, the last Wolf of Winterfell?" he spat the words with a malicious smile, his hot breath on her neck but she didn't shudder, she starred straight into the gates of Kingslanding, she'd been ready for this moment for years.

He couldn't believe what he was doing and he spread the word, the men lined up raging, ready to go as he rode in front of them, his wife on his lap. Not one of them dared to say anything, they knew no sane man would ride his wife and unborn child into war without solid reason. His personal guard surrounded his horse and she knew he was uncomfortable, unhappy, he wanted to be on the ground with his men, he wanted to take off the first head and mount it on the first pike. She was preventing it but he had to learn, if he were ever to be a real Lord that occasionally he had to separate himself.

Sansa stark looked glorious, most of the men around her had served her father loyally, loved her father loyally, it seemed fitting that they follow the same red hair and strong jaw into battle this day, to finally take the capital that killed him.

With a final cry of war Ramsay dug his heels into the horse and they flew forward. She clung to him fiercely and felt his strong arm wrapped around her. His breath hit her ear, his voice rasped in a growl "You aren't going anywhere little wolf."

Perhaps it was her extra weight but by the time they reached the gates they were at least four men back in the crowd of riders. The walls guard fell quickly, next came the Lannister guard, even smaller than reported, less than two hundred men inside the walls, they flew past them as the men engaged one another in fearsome battle, she felt him whimper at the sight of the blood and gore, desperate to get involved but Ramsay's horse never slowed, she'd turned and her face now pressed into his leather breastplate. His cloak almost covered her and she heard blood curling screams around her. Her weight fell forward onto him and she knew the horse had taken the stairs to the grand hall. Ramsay watched as the great door opened for him, his face fell, it was the first time he'd had doors opened for him in battle.

His horse flew through the hall until he came to a stop in front of the iron throne. The first think he saw was the familiar face of Lord Petyr Baelish, the second the unfamiliar face of Lady Olenna Tyrell. The third thing he saw was the two dozen Tyrell army knights that filled the hall and surrounded the steps to the Iron throne.

Lifting his cloak, he watched Petyr's eyes light up as he lifted Sansa from his lap and dropped her to her feet. The girl flew to Lord Baelish who embraced her with a nod to Ramsay.

He turned his horse, too eager to return to the fight, itching to get his sword bloodied. He ripped his cloak and shirt from his chest. As he glared around the guard who had followed him into the hall. He pounced to the floor landing firmly on his feet and raising his head slowly as he growled in a deep voice "We do not fight on horseback" he seethed the words as all of his men dropped to their feet. Leather straps bound his hands and wrapped around his rippling chest as he pulled out his dagger and stormed toward the door with his excited menacing grin and on his face. He paused for a moment at the door looking to Sansa who stood watching his display of terror"What do the Tyrell's look like?" Sansa moved to answer but Lady Olenna stepped in. "My granddaughter had long brown hair, she is very pretty and my grand son…" she rolled her eyes "…has long curly brown hair…and is very…pretty." Ramsay smirked as he grasped the dagger in one hand, his sword in the other and launched himself through the door.

Lady Olenna turned to Sansa "Well, he's a step up from Joffrey is he not?" her eyes sparked as she smiled at her.

"He's worse, he's a monster, an absolute brute" Sansa shook her head speaking quietly as Lady Olenna looked out of the door longingly with a whistful smile.

"I'm sure he is dear, most men are but doesn't brutality look better on a warrior storming into battle than a King cowering behind his mothers skirts?"

She couldn't help but smile at the old ladies words, she had always liked Lady Olenna, she spoke the truth plainly and simply.


	17. Chapter 17

**Hi All, thank you all so much for your reviews, please keep reviewing it does really inspire me to write and I love your suggestions/opinions for things you'd like to see.**

 **For anyone who is concerned, this is not a 'Ramsay turns good' story. This is going to be a 'Psycho Ramsay realises he quite likes equally powerful wife whilst they slowly take over the world' style story. I have a good strong plot for it and I plan to progress it in as much of a believable way as possible. Lots of twists and turns along the way for you all!**

 **Teaser...What happens when Jamie Lannister returns from Dorne?Hmmm I wonder!**

 **Also, please be warned that the next few chapters, just like this one, will contain graphic descriptions of Ramsay Bolton...Being Ramsay Bolton! There will be Lemon's but be patient!**

Petyr took her in his arms and kissed the top of her head, his eyes locked with hers "Do you have the note I asked for."

Sansa nodded and handed the small note to him, he opened it and read with a smile

 _My King_

 _I received word in the night from Lord Baelish, The High Septor had moved to take control of Kingslanding and our opportunity to attack had arrived. Lord Bolton has successfully led his troops to take the capital and holds the boy king and his mother at the foot of the Iron Throne, awaiting your arrival._

He read the note aloud before passing it to one of his men who opened a small cage and attached it to the leg of a Raven.

Lady Olenna spoke sternly, the concern at the potential of losing her beloved grand children was apparent.

"Is it not presumptuous to notify him of our success, prior to us succeeding. Need I remind you that Lord Bolton has yet to bring Cersei, or my grand children to us."

Petyr released the raven and watched as it flew out of the grand hall. He locked his eyes with Olenna's in an amused stare as he muttered "You will come to know Ramsey Bolton, over these coming months and as you do, you will understand why failure is inconceivable."

Sansa rolled her eyes, "He's indestructible…unfortunately" she muttered the last word under her breath, not even sure whether she meant it anymore, there was a small spot in the pit of her swollen stomach that churned at the thought of Ramsay falling. When she looked up she knew Lady Olenna had seen it, the old woman smiled kindly and nodded.

The loud crash of the doors opening snapped their attention to the front of the hall. Screams and curses could be heard from the scene outside, the loud clank of steel hitting armour and the soft thud of bodies hitting the ground.

Lady Olenna's eyes brimmed with tears as she saw the sight. Sansa had to admit, It was a breath taking sight to anyone who was not used to it.

All Sansa could hear was his deep rasping breath, even from the other end of the hall.

He was a sight to behold, his blood splattered chest and dark glare as he paced toward them, some how he looked more daunting on foot than on horseback. Ramsay preferred hand to hand combat anyway. He wanted to look into the eyes of a man as he killed him.

Had she been able to tear her eyes away from the sight she would have rolled them again, covered in dirt and blood he carried two bodies slung over either shoulder. A dozen of his men followed loyally behind him, she could see reek holding a third body as he scurried behind her husband.

Ramsay's glare was strong, fierce and determined. His eyes never left them as he strode toward them. The Tyrell guard parted to let him through and without a word he dropped the two writhing bodies at Lady Olenna's feet. Both Margery and Laurence were gagged and bound but that wasn't Ramsay's work, clearly they had recovered the two just in time.

She could hear the old woman beside her gasp and she couldn't help but smirk as pride rose inside her, her husband was a fearsome sight to behold.

Lady Olenna dropped to her knee's as she desperately pulled at the binds releasing her beloved grand children.

"Thank you Lord Bolton" she looked to Ramsay who nodded.

Petyr didn't move his eyes from the lifeless body in Reeks arms once.

"Cersei Lannister" his voice whispered as the woman was placed at his feet. "Bind her until Stannis arrives." His men flew forward tying her arms and legs. Petyr ran his eyes over the motionless body and glared over at Ramsay who smirked.

"She wouldn't…cooperate, she's alive though, I expect she'll wake shortly."

"Word has been sent to Stannis, he is ridding for the capitol as we speak" Petyr glared over at Ramsay…."Follow me" he spoke calmly as he brushed past the guards. With a raised hand Ramsay stopped his own men, glancing over his shoulder he gave his orders with a growl "Protect my wife and son with your lives. If any of you out live her, I will kill you personally…and it will not be a good death." He seethed maliciously as he followed Petyr.

He found him in the Kings Chamber, stood on the small balcony over looking the city of war bellow them. He wasn't familiar with the palace but Petyr had been sure to walk just slowly enough for him to follow in pursuit.

Petyr stood with his hands on the stone rail, the afternoon sun hung low in the sky. "This doesn't frighten you does it?" he looked down on the scene bellow him, the battle was coming to an end most of the lannister army who weren't already dead had yielded but the whole city lay in chaos and destruction.

Ramsay shook his head without having to think for a moment, if anything he'd been thoroughly disappointed by today.

"You could be a great man Ramsay Bolton…" Petyr sighed as he leant forward, his eyes locking with Ramsay's "This is not the war Ramsay, the war is coming and when it does these men will feel fear like nothing they have felt before. It will not end quickly, there will be great loss and it will require great leadership."

Petyr's eyes darkened "You made a promise to me, a promise you didn't keep."

Ramsay's dipped his head as he spoke "I regret my actions." It was true, he did, not because he felt bad for what he had done but because he loathed himself for having missed so much of Sansa's character. He prided himself on being a master of manipulation, being able to read every inch of a person and use it to his advantage yet he had slept next to his wife for months without ever really seeing her. He would have had far more fun with the real woman than he'd had with the broken little girl.

Petyr new this, he wasn't a fool and Ramsay Bolton was a volatile monster as best, yet Sansa had reported no cruelty of late and Petyr had every reason to believe the boy who stood in front of him. For the moment Ramsay was a valuable asset one who he had purposely kept in the dark for months but he was interested to see what the boy was truly capable of.

Petyr smiled "We started in similar places you and I, You were a bastard, and I was the son of no one, we've taken different paths but I recognise the same will for power and control in you that I have myself." his voice dropped to barely a whisper "Do dragons scare you Ramsay? Going to war with Dragons as they rain down fire over the capitol. Do white walkers scare you?"

He saw the unmistakable glint of glee in Ramsay's eyes as he pictured it. His words were short and clear, "Every man must die, I can't imagine a better way to go."

Petyr shook his head slightly as he watched, the boy was certifiably insane but he might just be the best chance they had.

"Why do you ask this Lord Bae…" they saw Stannis's riders in the distance and he followed Petyr in silence as they made haste back to the Iron throne.

Cersei was awake, sat up and demanding her son be brought to her immediately. Lady Olenna and the two young Tyrell's sat patiently waiting for events to unfold as Sansa perched on the steps surrounded by the men he had left here to guard her.

He felt Petyr's hand abruptly against his chest as he stopped them before they reached the group. His voice a whisper he spoke sternly "Stannis cannot leave this hall alive, the moment he is dead you will take command of his troupes, this will not be easy, if you fail we may all be killed."

The doors opened before the words had truly sunk in and the group before him rose to their feet as Stannis entered with his personal guard of twelve men.

Sansa watched Ramsay and Petyr in the distance, she knew what was being said, she knew every step of the plan and she chocked a sigh of relief as she realised Stannis did not have Mellisandra by his side. That had been their biggest fear, rumours of her...abilities had left them concerned.

Petyr wasn't sure exactly what he had expected but it wasn't this, Ramsay flew toward Stannis and his men who had waited surrounding Lady Sansa followed him. Before Stannis even think to greet him he lay face down on the floor, Ramsay's sword plunged through is chest. The Tyrell's watched in horror.

Only Lady Olenna smiled to herself, she could see Petyr's point, volatile as he was there was a sheer brutality to him that left all of the other men who watched, in awe. He was a warrior.

Without a word Ramsay spun to Cersei, walking behind her he held her head in his hands as he whispered maliciously into her ear "I've heard stories about you Cersei Lannister, I think under different circumstances, you and I would have had great fun together." She winced as the feel of his rough hot tongue on the skin of her ear sent shivers down her spine.

Sansa saw the disgust in Cersei's eyes as Ramsay severed her head, cutting deep into her neck and snapping it away from her body. Sansa couldn't help but smile, she'd been waiting for someone to do that for years. Holding it out to his men he growled "Put it on a pike above the gates" he pointed to Stannis "His too, then burn the body, I wont have his witch bringing him back."

"Line them up, on their knee's" he growled as his men forced each of Stannis's guard to the floor.

Ramsay paced with vigor in front of them as he spoke with a malicious joy in his tone "How many of you knew of your Kings plans to unite with Cersei Lannister and betray both your cause and the North?" the hall fell silent as he smirked "It wasn't a rhetorical question… I'm waiting for answer, You!" he pointed to the first man.

Sansa could feel Petyr shaking by her side as she watched on in amusement.

"What is he doing? I didn't tell him kill Cersie, or do this.." he gestured toward the line of kneelt men and Sansa smiled."

"Did you know?" Ransay growled at the knelt man who shook his head. Without warning Ramsay lunged forward plunging his dagger into the man's stomach. "Wrong answer" he whispered.

Sansa smiled looking up at Petyr as the blood that been pooling on the floor finally crept up to meet them where they stood, her voice was cool as she looked up at him.

"I believe that he is playing the game." she smiled "You wanted your monster Lord Baelish, here he is."

"Now you've all seen what happens to liars, I'm going to ask you one more time…who here knew of his plans?" Ramsay watched with a smile as each man raised their hand.

"Well, that makes you all traitors to the Norths cause then doesn't it." The line of men shuddered in fear as Ramsay's men grinned.

He glanced over to Lady Olenna and continued with a smirk.

"I have eighty thousand men both in this city and waiting outside these walls. Lady Olenna has the Tyrell army of equal size waiting a short ride from our gates, I will be merging my men with hers to create a unified army for the protection of our cause. You are vastly out numbered and you have lost your leader."

He could see the men, all fearing for their lives. He smirked as his voice softened, this reminded him of training reek.

"I don't blame you, no, this was not your fault, you are of course all loyal North men, who understand the need to rid this city of its Lannister Poison. Are you not?"

He watched as the men nodded "You will return to your men and tell them of their King's collaboration with the Lannisters, his betrayal of their cause and of the North. Any man who wishes to swear his allegiance to me will join us and any who does not…can face our men at their own peril." He smirked "I am offering your all an opportunity and for those of your who have known me in the North… you will know what a rare chance, betray me and I will ensure you curse the day."

Sansa watched several of the men gulp, colour draining from all faces as Ramsay lifted them to their feet and forced them out to the doors.


	18. Chapter 18

The hours passed slowly as they sat in the throne room, tension hung heavy in the air as nobody spoke and Petyr repeatedly disappeared.

Sansa smiled to herself, no one could find out what was happening beyond the walls faster than him, he had his spies planted well in advance of today.

The moment they heard his footsteps the attention of the entire room fell to him. Lady Olenna gripped the hands of Margery and Loras whilst Ramsay paced affront his men, Sansa stayed where he had left her, still perched on the steps.

His voice rang out, echoing from the room. "Stannis's men did not protest, they have sworn their allegiance to the North, to Lady Stark and in Kin, to… her husband Lord Bolton." He looked to Ramsay as he watched it click into place why it had been so important that she be here…she quite literally was the Key to the North.

Lady Olenna held firm to the shaking Margaery, as the girl realised she had lost her crown in that very moment and was now at the mercy of Ramsay Bolton. Lady Olenna had known this to be the case but better her crown than her life and that was the choice they had been faced with whilst her granddaughter lay at the mercy of the sparrows.

From behind Petyr appeared the boy King, ushered by Petyr's firm hand, his already pale face fell as he saw the body of his mother. Before he could weep for her his eyes flew to Margarey who let hot tears fall from her cheeks at the sight of him still alive, Margery had never loved the boy as a wife should but she cared for him, he was a sweet boy mixed up in the sordid affairs of men. Slowly the rest of the court who had taken into hiding at the first sound of war appeared.

Slowly and apprehensively filling the hall.

Tommen turned to Petyr and with a nod from the man the boy continued. His voice was weak and faltered "I never wanted to be king" his hand raised to his head.

"I lodge no claim to the throne, I have no desire for it as my family did." He took the crown in his hands as he offered it to Petyr, "I have been a pawn in my mother's game and I had no intention to hurt anyone, I bed that the life of my Lady wife be sparred. You will face no uprising from the Lannister house, it is at your disposal. I will pledge my lands, army's and funds to the future safety of our kingdom."

"Does anyone raise issue to this agreement?" his voice rang out and his eyes danced upon Ramsay who's fists tightened but said nothing.

"An agreement made between these four families may not be broken on the honour of their houses. Baratheon, Lannister, Bolton and Tyrell, you all bare witness to the Kings voluntary dethroning. Tommen Baratheon bares no claim to the Iron throne and will be forthwith escorted to the dungeons to await his fate. "

Petyr watched as Tommen moved to bend his knee to him, the fastest and surest was to cement any new king onto the throne. The boy felt Petyr's hand stop him before he sunk.

This was the first time Petyr Bealish felt true fear, he knew what he must do but could barely bring himself to do it, he was dancing with death and gambling on the only option he had with no guarantee it would pay off. His had was forced and he must chose the wildcard.

Without a word he strode to the foot of the Iron throne in front of the crowd of castle nobles who had gathered there, offering his hand to Sansa he raised her to her feet. Slowly he made his way up the steps before stopping part way.

He looked at her with his eyes wide as he gazed upon the sweet young girl he had grown to love as his own. "You understand what I must do" he whispered gently. She nodded, she did know and she did understand…a great war was coming and they had only one option.

His voice rang out across the hall "This crown has one true owner, a man who can protect us and lead us to Victory. My Lady Sansa was destined to sit atop the Iron throne from the name day and now she shall, beside her husband, your King…Ramsay Bolton."

She watched the genuine look of disbelief that spread across his dark face. His heart raced in his chest as he felt the eyes of the entire room fall to him. Without a moments hesitation he walked toward his wife, her red hair shinning in the sunlight as he stood ethereal and majestic, his key to the iron throne.

He took his hand in hers and looked out over the crowd as he felt Petyr place the golden crown on his head and whisper softly. "I have made you a king and I will keep you that way. Cross me and I will send you back to nothing."

Almost an hour later they were still sat there, an endless queue of men lined the street, parading into the grand hall one after another to pledge their loyalty to their new king. Word had travelled quickly and Sansa hadn't comprehended just how many Knights, soldiers and landowners there truly were in and around the capitol until now.

It had been a long day and despite Ramsay's still gleeful grin, her resolve was wearing thin. She remembered the day she'd dreamed of being queen and of giving her king perfect children but she had changed a great deal over the years and sitting here now she felt like she hardly knew that girl, who'd once had those dreams.

All of the times she'd hated Cersei, loathed her and hoped she would die on the spot. All the times she'd wondered how Cersie could possibly be so calculated, so manipulative and so cruel. Now she understood.

As she looked out over the crowd nothing filled her heart but absolution, she had finally taken the city that once took everything from her.

The question had just been raised regarding the small council, when she saw Petyr stiffen and shoot her a 'stop him' glare. She knew what Ramsay was going to day before he had chance to say it, he'd want reek. Of course he would, a hand for names sake and nothing more.

Her face completely emotionless she turned to him as he opened his mouth to answer, cutting him off she spoke "I feel unwell, take me to our chambers my king."

Ramsay looked amused, he wasn't fooled by her faining illness, it had become her secret code to remove him from a situation when he was about to go off plan. He smirked to himself, he had no intention of giving in to her, he was king now and he was enjoying himself.

He leant over to her with a malicious smile, "Have your ladies tend to you, your king is not finished."

His hot breath steamed against her pale skin, without a moments hesitation her flaming eyes locked with his, her lips hovering inches away from as she starred with determination into his dark eyes and whispered into the nape of his neck. "I still have that moon tea Ramsay, don't test me. It's been a horrifying day, perhaps the shock had affected me more than I thought."

His eyes widened as he watched her hand graze her swollen stomach.

The man currently kneeling in front of him jumped in shock as Ramsay flew to his feet, speaking to the crowd abruptly and seizing Sana's arm in what looked like a supportive guide but almost made her whimper at it's force. "The queen is unwell, we will retire."

He pulled her toward the door as she stumbled trying to make sure it didn't look forced to the crowds who waited behind them.

Just as they reached the doors she turned to Ramsay stopping in her tracks.

Her pale eyes met his, her voice just loud enough to be heard by the room she spoke, "My king, all of these good men have travelled here to pledge their allegiance to you, to our house, perhaps your trusted advisor Lord Baelish..." she gestured toward Petyr with a smile "...may stand for you in your absence, to accept their pledges on your behalf."

She could see Ramsay's eyes fuming as he glanced around the room. Turning back to face only him she smiled "It would only be proper" he stuttered as he growled lowly.

With a false smile he turned to the room and gestured to the Iron Throne "Of course, please Petyr, I would be honoured if you would receive these good men whilst I am indisposed."

A sigh of relief swept through the entire hall and Petyr smiled with a nod.

"The honour, would be all mine my king. You honour me, I wish you a speedy recovery my queen." He nodded to Sansa but her eyes were fixed solidly on Lady Olenna who watched her knowingly with a curious smile.

She was careful to stay ahead of him through the corridor, although his painful grasp never left her arm.

The moment they were through the door to their chamber she tugged herself violently from his grasp and took off toward the Balcony, looking out over the city as the cool evening air brushed against her warm skin.

His footsteps thundered behind her and she heard his agitated breathing. Suddenly she felt him behind her, pushing forcefully up behind her forcing her thighs forward against the hard stone balcony.

"What the hell was that?" he roared into her ear and she stood unflinching starring out over the city. He wouldn't hurt her, not badly at least, not whilst she still carried his child.

He wanted to though, she could feel it, blood hunger seeped from Ramsay like love had from her own mother, you could sense it, it wrapped itself around you and rocked you in its presence.

"You will make Petyr your hand" her voice still cool she felt him seething into her ear as he stood pressed behind her.

"I will make reek my hand." He growled with conviction.

Her temper flared and she turned to him and glared into his heated eyes, "Then you are a bling fool who will not listen to reason or see what is in front of him. You will make yourself the laughing stock of the city and put all of our lives at risk." Her hand raised to her stomach protectively as Ramsay sneered, grabbing her wrist and twisting it painfully until tears stung her eyes.

"Do not try to influence me with the life of a child you threatened yourself only moments ago. I will make reek my hand if I wish it, I will make reek the entirety of my small council if I wish it" his eyes flamed "I am the King!"

He released her hand and she pulled it to her chest as it began to swell, biting back tears she glared at him then laughed erratically as a tear slid down her face, she remembering the words she had once heard in this very castle, the irony amused her."

"You laugh at me?" his eyes tore into her as his breath hitched.

"You reminded me of words spoken the last time I was here" she spat the words and watched him raise his eyebrow in intrigue. It wasn't obvious but she knew him well enough to see it, he wanted to know.

"Please, do share" he smirked at her and waited.

Composing herself and steadying her breath she straightened her back and moved forward until her eyes were inches away from his own before she spoke. The city bathed in the glow of the sunset behind them.

Her pale blue eyes locked with his black and she hissed the words to him slowly, perfectly pronouncing each syllable and watching as they sunk into the man before her "We've had vicious kings, and we've had idiot kings but we've never been curse with a vicious idiot king."

She saw the words hit him as he realised who they had last been said to and where that boy had ended his reign.

Her lips curled as she watched the wheels turning in his mind and she couldn't help herself as she said it,

"Any man who says I am the king, is no king at all Ramsay, do not turn your back on the only people keeping you here, a year ago you were a bastard and today you sit on the iron throne as king, don't you want to see how far we can go? "


	19. Chapter 19

"Draw me a bath" she spoke to the small servant girl who stood timidly by the door.

Ramsay had followed her in from the Balcony and the young girl who looked no older than fourteen looked terrified in his presence.

Her hands shook and she began to draw the bath and Ramsay was the first to notice. He smiled as he moved the Sansa's back and felt her tense as his rough hands began to pull at the stiff materiel of her dress. The only advantage of her swollen stomach was that she no longer had to wear her horribly restrictive corset but she'd have welcomed it right now. Without it she felt too exposed to his touch. Tensing she spoke clearly, "You will not" her clear crisp voice rang through the room as steam began to rise from the bathing pool of the Kings chamber. It was built from stone and rose out of the floor, unlike any bath she had ever seen before. She would have been excited at the prospect of it had Ramsay's hands not been roaming her back, she felt his fingers brush against her skin as she realised he'd unlaced her completely.

"Stop" Sansa pulled away sharply glaring at Ramsay " We have a deal Ramsay, remember, if you break it, so will I." She saw him grin as he brought his face to hers and almost sang the words at her in a horribly mocking tone.

"I don't believe you" God, that golden crown looked so horribly wrong still on his head.

He snapped his eyes from her cold expression as she held her dress up to her body and glared at him intently.

"Fine, fine!" he pounced across the room and she sighed to herself, he was in one of those moods, the ones that never ended well. He was feeling sadistic and if he didn't have her to take it out on…he would find someone else.

"You, girl!" he looked over at the little servant girl who was still filling the pool timidly, Sansa's eyes widened with sympathy as she saw the small girl look up and immediately shrink back toward the wall. It was too late, Ramsay clutched her face in his grubby fingers. Her back against the wall but he caused her no pain, simply forced her to look at him.

"What would you say if your King demanded he take you, right now, whilst the queen watched from her bath."

He sneered, glancing over to Sansa, more interested in her reaction than the girls but Sansa's eyes stayed on the girl. Plain but pretty in a sort of way she looked terrified and Sansa's heart raced as she saw the same look of utter dismay that she'd felt a thousand times when Jeoffrey had treated her this same way.

The girls eyes filled with self loathing and bitter disgust as she spoke quietly "It would be an honour my King." She said every word as though it burnt her tongue to say and her eyes paled with submission realising that this may well be her fate.

Sansa couldn't watch it, he strong resolve melted as she shouted at them both.

"Fine!" Ramsay's eyes gleamed as she saw Sansa flush slightly pink. "Get out!" she hissed at the girl and the moment Ramsay released his grip the girl fled from the scene, endless thanks whispered to Sansa as she passed.

Sansa sucked in a deep breath and she watched Ramsay stood opposite her, his heavy breathing and dark smile made her itch. "Well go on then." He hissed beckoning toward the water as Sansa slowly but surely began to drop the dress from around her. It was a game, it was always a game with him, who would back down first, who could push it the farthest without dying as a result.

Her milky white swollen breasts felt the brush of the cold air as she saw Ramsay's jaw tighten, his enthralled gaze flickering over her body in eager anticipation. She had no doubt he wanted to see her but he found the idea of forcing her just as appealing as the act itself. He had control, he knew she didn't want him to watch but he would anyway.

A loud unruly banging on the large oak door drew away Ramsay's attention like a wolf hearing the approach of hunters as it fed from it's kill. He snarled flying toward the door and ripping it open.

Coming face to face with Petyr and a dozen of his men who had supposed to be guarding the door.

"I told you no visitors" he snarled at the men as Sansa clutched her dress back up to cover her body.

Petyr smiled, his sharp eyes catching the scene perfectly. "That, does not apply to me nor shall it ever my King." He spoke clearly and Ramsays eyes flickered down to the hands pin that he wore on his tunic. How could he have gotten it so quickly? It angered Ramsay that he was so presumptuous as to wear it even in his temporary appointment.

Petyr's eyes met his and he knew something was wrong. "We must speak, immediately my King."

With one flick of his eyes Ramsay knew he wanted to speak without Sansa's present and he roughly pushed the man back out into the empty corridor. His fierce eyes flying to his men as they all dispersed to guard each end to ensure they would not be disturbed, or overheard.

"What is it?" Ramsay snapped.

Petyr lowered his voice to barely a whisper before he spoke. "Melisandra fled to the wall when reports of Stannis's death circulated. I have just gotten word that Jon Snow, natural son of Lord Eddark Stark has fallen this night."

Ramsay's eyes widended as he took in the news and considered it. He didn't see the problem but something in Petyr's concern made him wary.

"Why is this bad news?" Ramsay questioned as Petyr spoke firmly.

"It is not…bad news Ramsay but it is unexpected news and the two unfortunately like to roam hand in hand. My sources confirmed that before his death Jon Snow had brought an army of Wildings through the gates of Castle Black. He commanded an army of thousands, more lethal than most and with invaluable knowledge which we will require…I assure you…we will require."

Ramsay fell to silence for a moment, "Surely their allegiance would fall to my wife would it not?"

Petyr shook his head, "Wildings are not like you or I, Jon Snow saved many of them and their trust and gratitude with pass to Sansa but their allegiance will fall only upon strength, leadership and their future. Which you must command. As always Ramsay, your wife is your Key but you must open the door."

Petyr turned to leave "I trust you will be happy in my forming a small council I deem…appropriate to deal with this matter."

Ramsay nodded still wrapped up in his thoughts of the wildlings, he'd always been fascinated by the rumours of their animalistic brutality.

Petyre stopped and starred intensely at Ramsay, "He was her brother, I do not need to warn you that severe shock or distress is a known cause of child loss. Be…as gentle as you can."

Ramsay nodded.

He was as gentle…as he could be. Which by anyone else's standard would barely pass as pleasant but he held her while she cried, even when she thought against him.

An hour later she sat in the warm water, her eyes fixed on the wall in a vacant stare as Ramsay lifted a wash cloth to clean her back and his hand ran over her swollen stomach.

Ramsay paused, taking it all in before he spoke softly.

"Was he as bad as the stories? The little King Jeoffrey?" he moved next to her and gently pressed a kiss to her forhead.

Her voice was cold as her quiet, "He was worse than the stories" she saw Ramsay smile beside her as his voice growled "Was he worse than me?"

Sansa looked up to him with her tear stained eyes as her voice lowered even further "When I was thirteen Jeoffrey cut off my father's head, mounted it on a pike and made me stand before it until he was pleased. When I didn't cry he had his guards beat me."

She paused, looking away from him,

"No Ramsay, he was not worse than you."


	20. Chapter 20

Sansa had kept her eyes and ears open for weeks waiting for news, any news but nothing. Petyr had been absent from court for the past few days and when he was here he'd been locked away in his highly secretive small council.

She'd cornered him days ago. His warm smile hadn't fooled her and she knew something was going on. There were too many variables in this situation for Petyr not to have a master plan. This wasn't what she had expected, she spent her days entertaining ladies and sitting beside Ramsay, her nights at least were spent in peace.

Whether Ramsay was now able to derive enough pleasure from the thought of his upcoming 'battle to end all battles' or simply no longer found her attractive given the increasing size of her stomach she wasn't sure. Either was he came into their chamber late, after she was long asleep and he left her equally early on a morning.

She had tried not to sound defeated when she spoke to Petyr "This isn't what I was expecting" was all she could say but her dear friend saw through her. He saw that she was hurting, confused and losing sight of their end goal. He repeated the same words to her that he had said as they approached the Dreadfort that day, when he was to marry her to Ramsay.

"Sansa my dear, this is a necessary evil. I am not leaving you in this situation to be cruel although what you will experience on this journey may well be. You are a Stark, you may be the last Stark and you must learn to play the game, you play the game or your die Sansa and I will not always be here to protect you, it is imperative that you learn."

Sansa knew he was right, she knew they had come so far from the first time she had heard those words and she was proud of that but she had been fighting for years now to feel safety, security and find her home, she was no closer now that she had ever been to it.

As though sensing she were thinking about him Petyr appeared at her chamber door, for a moment he watched her, starring longingly out of the window with her long elegant neck. She looked more like her mother now than ever before and he hated himself for what he was about to say to her.

"My Queen" his voice rang through the room. She jumped and then smiled.

"Petyr, I will only ever be Sansa to you." She nodded, granting silent permission for him to enter.

"Where is our king today?" Petyr said mockingly as he took his place stood beside her in the window.

"He had gone hunting with his guard, taking advantage of the new lands to roam and keeping himself distracted from the recurring urge to take Tomen's head and place it above the gates." Her steely blue eyes didn't move from the forest she gazed at, she knew he was out there somewhere.

"He's done well so far, better than I had expected." Petyr placed his hand gently on her shoulder. "I was expecting some unorthodox bloodshed and a vicious power struggle but he hasn't killed anything important so far." She could feel his hand tense as his voice lowered into a quiet gravelly tone "He has not taken a lover within the walls or beyond, I am certain of it."

Sansa snapped her eyes to search Petyr's, knowing he would never mention such a thing without reason, not to her. Petyr knew the moment he saw sadness fill her eyes that she knew his intentions and he didn't hold back. "Sansa, I can only speak frankly. If you do not satisfy your husband, he will seek satisfaction elsewhere and that is not something we can risk right now." His jaw tensed as he watched her "I will be sending Lardy Margery back to High Garden at the first possible opportunity, it would be best that Ramsay not disagree on the matter."

Sansa's face dropped, Margery was one of the only people who's company she enjoyed in the palace, "Margery is my friend, cant she…" Petyr cut her off, his face serious and Sansa knew not to question him. "Lady Margaery is not your friend Sansa, Margery Tyrell intends to have her sons sit on the Iron throne and she is not deterred by a monstrous King as a match. You have allowed your own sorrow to cloud your judgement and your awareness, what you are not observing in the court could cost you your seat. Margaery has been playing for Ramsay since the moment the crown touched his head and I do not believe he is far from accepting her.

Suddenly it clicked and a sinking feeling filled her stomach, that's why he hadn't shown interest in her recently. Her hand rested on her large swollen stomach and her eyes flickered to Petyr. "I fear I am in no condition to…satisfy him." Petyr felt like blushing, he'd had every sexual conversation known to man with the women who worked for him over the years but Sansa was an entirely different case.

He felt embarrassed at the mere thought of what Ramsay had done to/with her and every part of him wanted to put Sansa in an untouchable room for the rest of her years, where only he could visit her. Alas though, Petyr was a practical man and he had a greater goal in mind for the both of them. He shook his head and Sansa's confused eyes filled with disbelief.

"Petyr, look at me, I can't be more than a few weeks away from having my child." It was true, although Sansa counted herself to be only seven moons past, the size she had expanded to left her questioning whether she had mis counted by a moon. Having been travelling for months with Stannis it would have been easy to miscount.

Petyr stood beside her his eyes fixed back on the forest beyond the small window, "I fear you must try, play the game Sansa, use your weakness to your advantage."

Sansa smiled, if it must happen then it must happen, since she'd heard of Jon's death she'd felt very little of any notable emotion. Evidently, now would not be the time to start.

Ramsay had spent a long afternoon hunting in the forest and he rode back to the castle with a smug grin on his face as his men rode beside him. They had done rather well considering and hiding his escapades had become even more fun than when he would flaunt them for the whole world to see.

It hadn't taken a great deal of orchestrating. He'd given the word long before they'd ridden into battle that day and taken the capitol. His elite band of boys were not to kill the men who opposed them in battle that morning, instead they captured them, restrained them and filled one of the empty carts with them. The evening he received his crown they had been taken to the deepest part of the dungeons where he had them held. Each day a handful were removed and smuggled out with his men when they went 'hunting', Ramsay loved to hunt, but he had no interest in regular game anymore.

He thought to himself as he rode, how much Margery reminded him of Myranda, the same milky brown hair, the same insatiable drive and the little spark that yearned to climb above her station. For the past weeks the girl had given him un deniable signals, she wanted him, she wanted his crown and his protection. He had considered giving into her, it was a well known fact amongst his boys that Ramsay was frustrated, something that only heightened his hunting thirst and sadistic approach to the poor peasant prisoners who he chased mercilessly.

As he rode through the gates to the Capitol he watched as crowds of people who filled the streets parted, looking up at him and lowering themselves to the ground in a mixture of admiration and sheer terror. It was true that his people felt safer under his reign than they had done in years, only not in his presence, it was ironic really. As he passed through them he felt himself stiffen, painfully pressing against the seat of his saddle. There was unfortunately only one person he could think of, the person he couldn't break, the one who would not give in to him.

He walked into the chambers in the dark after at least an hour spent in the dungeon's picking out his game for the next day with the help of his boys, oh, they had great fun. His hands were splattered with blood up to his wrists and his eyes gleamed with joy. He would need to bathe before he could take his place laid next to her but it was worth it.

He saw the small serving girl, Olivia, passing him in the hall outside his chamber door, she sunk to the ground before him and he abruptly pulled her back up, her face fell as she smelt the blood before she saw it.

"There was a hunting accident" he spoke with no real attempt to make her believe him and she nodded. "I will need to bath, draw me a bath and do not wake the queen."

The girls eyes darted as she stuttered "The Queen…is already bathing." Ramsay released her shoulder and the girl ran quickly down the hall.

Curious, he thought as he pushed the door open. It was unlike Sansa to be awake at this time, he wondered whether she was unwell but then the thought passed him, he would have been notified immediately had she been taken ill.

Sansa had waited, her spies in the castle reported that he had returned, he'd gone down the dungeon's to play with the pets he thought she didn't know about. She did and whilst it turned her stomach, it satiated his blood thirst and was probably the main reason Tommen's head wasn't on that spike Ramsay had been pushing for. She'd had the bathing pool filled when he arrived, topped up with scolding hot water ever fifteen minutes she'd sat on their bed and lay in wait for news of his movements. Oliva was her little bird within the palace walls. She had come flying through the door only five minutes ago, red faced and spluttering about Ramsay being on his way. Sansa had her aid her to undress and dismissed her before Ramsay arrived. Slowly she clambered onto the edge of the pool and sat there waiting for him to arrive before she submerged herself.

Her flame red hair flowed freely over her shoulder as she was bathed in the moonlight that flooded in through the window. Cool breeze hitting her warm skin from the open balcony. Looking down at her stomach she sighed, this was never going to work. She felt foolish, there was nothing sexy about the way she looked or felt right now. She'd be lying is she said she hadn't thought about him over the months she'd lay untouched. Ramsay had been a cruel lover but her mind sometimes flicked back to the once he had been passionate and how it had felt when waves of pleasure crashed down on her.


	21. Chapter 21

"What are you doing?" Ramsey's dark eyes and darker voice ran through the shadow drenched room and grazed her skin.

Sansa felt the warm water engulf her as she dropped from the side of the stone bathing pool into it's embrace. With the terrace beyond her she could see the dimming lights of Kings landing as the city around them was beginning to fall to the peaceful night.

"What are you doing?" His voice rang out again, bemused and intrigued but over powered with hesitation. Sansa could hardly blame him for that, after all she had spent months pushing him away and refusing him.

There was a small part of her, a very small part, deep in the pit of her stomach that twisted and burned, it had been awful at times in her husband's arms but she remembered the times it was not. Sansa could remember the ecstasy that crashed over her that night in winter fell, she'd never known that a man could use his tongue in that way it seemed barbaric but it felt…there were no words to describe it and just the thought made her thighs quiver in the warm heat of the pool.

Ramsay stood still in the corner of the room, watching her as though she were putting on a show for him…which she was of course.

The thought had crossed her mind several times over the day that he might not desire her in her current state, in fact Sansa had never felt less desirable than she did right now. Pushing the thought from her mind she wrapped her long hair around one shoulder and scooped up watched in her hands letting it drip slowly onto her swollen breasts.

"Bathing, I needed to release some…tension Ramsay" her eyes flicked up to his as she said his name and watched him smirk. It was only ever in moment of anger, pain on passion that Sansa used his name, he knew that. There was no 'Lord Husband' or 'My king' tonight. He liked it and he liked her, the sight of her there swollen and regal, with the city they had taken side by side covering the horizon. Sansa Stark was a queen, his queen and it left the animalistic side of him roaring. He was king and she had put him here, handed him the crown and secured their future. Never in his entire life had Ramsay looked at a woman as his equal, he thought it impossible but yet here she was.

Calculated, manipulative and fierce, he knew that right now his entry to that bathing pool came with more hidden agendas and game plans than he could comprehend. There was no way that Sansa was handing herself to him for nothing but he didn't care. He didn't care at all because he could already feel himself straining against his britches and it was only the thought of his son that held him back from tearing his wife limb from limb tonight.

He walked toward her, pulling his breastplate and clothing off at her went until he sat naked on the edge of the pool and lowered himself in beside her. He could smell her, he could practically taste her skin as he watched beads of water collect on it.

He lowered his lips to her shoulder and pulled her back against his chest, he was pressing himself against her in the most agonising way and when he heard her pur he almost lost control. He wouldn't though…not until she asked him to. He would keep his word and he would make her ask him to take her. In fact he would make her beg for it.

Sansa groaned as she felt his rough hands under the water wrapping around her swollen stomach and she felt him pressing against her back. His lips ran down her shoulder and for the first time in her entire life…Sansa felt the rushing burn of true desire. Turning around she faced him, hovering her cheek only an inch from his and wrapping her legs around him as she let him take the weight of her.

Starring into his eyes she saw every part of him, the wounded boy of Roose Bolton hand in hand with the cold, heartless, bloodthirsty sadist.

"I missed you" she whispered into his ear and reached down between them, hearing him hiss when she took him in her hand. Was it possible that Ramsay had been as well behaved as he proclaimed to have been? He certainly seemed…sensitive.

There was an enjoyment Sansa gained from watching the violence in Ramsay's eyes boil. Every worry she had that he wouldn't desire her disappeared he was barely holding himself back and she shuddered to think what he would do to her if her swollen stomach were not pressed so tightly against his chest.

Without a word she pushed him firmly backward until he sat at the edge of the pool, hovering over him she placed him gently at her entrance and felt him tightly grip her hips. As she began to skin down she felt a sudden shock and stopped. He was stopping her, with a gleeful smirk on his face.

"I told you I wouldn't take you until you asked me to"

Of course…he wanted to play she should have guessed.

"Fine"

Sansa stood up, stepped out of the pool, wrapper her robe around herself and headed toward her bed.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Ramsay's burnt like the fiery pits of hell as he came after her faster than even she could have expected. He grasped her wrist so tightly that it hurt and looked at her like he wanted to mount her head over the gates to Kings Landing.

She was done…she'd got the reaction she wanted.

Leaning as close to him as she could she whispered "I want you to take me"

Her robe shredded on the floor she was all but thrown to the bed. He loomed over her the way he had so many times before only now she was not scared of him. He crashed his lips to her too roughly and sunk his fingers deep into her wet heat. He pressed against her with need and ran his hand over her stomach. Grasping her hips he tried to turn her "Get on your hands and knee's" he growled clearly considering the practicalities.

Sansa wasn't having that, "Lay down" she said, she expected him to argue but he didn't and the moment he lay beneath her she sunk down onto him. The expression he had and the groan he gave when she did answered her question. He hadn't been serviced elsewhere, not like this and certainly not by another woman.

Rocking back and forth she watching him, he had always been such a brute of control but now he shuddered and fought with every movement not to lose control. The way he grasped her hips and the look in his eyes, he wanted to throw her down and destroy her but he wouldn't.

His breathing quickened, his grip tightened and his head was thrown back…he couldn't hold out and she could feel it. Heavy heat was filling Sansa's stomach and every time she fell down onto him she could feel herself climbing closer…closer…closer but she had to…STOP

Ramsay's eyes flew open "Keep going" he seethed but instead she rocked gently in place and held his gaze.

"There are rumours in the castle Ramsay, concerning you and…Margery…I want them gone, I want us to be able to do this" she lifted herself up and sunk back down until Ramsay groaned and threw his head back.

"I'll flay the bitch if you want just don't fucking stop"

Harder, faster, she sunk down onto him each time until she could take no more and felt herself snap, like fireworks exploding and closed her eyes and screamed "King Ramsay Bolton…come for me"

She'd never heard anything like the noise that Ramsay made, like a lion saluting the sunrise from a mountain top she felt the rush of hot fluid and watched him crumble beneath her.

Letting herself fall to his side she lay there and smiled to herself when she felt his strong arms instinctively wrapping around her. "I will happily flay her, if you wish" he muttered sleepily into her shoulder.

"No Ramsay, I think we might have use for them yet but I needed to know where your allegiance lay."

Sansa felt his hand grip the skin of her stomach.

"With my family, my queen and my son…always."


	22. Chapter 22

"Your hand wished me to inform you that he will be joining you for your hunt this morning, my King"

The flickering first embers of grey sunlight had barely fallen through the heavy velvet drapes when the boy arrived. Ramsay gritted his teeth climbing out of bed and glancing back over his shoulder at his sleeping wife. He much preferred a hunt by moonlight, it had been far too long in his opinion since he'd had the opportunity to hunt his game of choice.

"Tell my hand to be saddled before the sun leaves the trees of the forest, if he is not, we will ride without him."

No, Ramsay had behaved for too long and was starting to fear that he may be losing his edge. He'd visited his pets in the dungeons the evening before and spent a long moment walking the tunnel that lead from the courtyard to the hounds. He'd peered in through the doors of the chambermaids, surely they would think he had perverse interests in them…oh if they only knew.

Nothing made Ramsay feel more like a king than holding life in his hands and looking straight into the eyes of the person he was taking it from.

As he strapped his leather breast plate to him he starred at Sansa, there was a vague warm feeling which crept through him, one that he wasn't used to and didn't much care for. He was no fool, he wouldn't have the discourtesy to lie to himself and pretend that he didn't love his wife. He did. Roose always told him that love made one weak. Ramsay didn't feel weak though, not with Sansa.

"Petyr" he greeted as the cold morning air whipped his face and he left the confines of the stone castle for the familiar stables. Petyr, that weasel was the first thing he saw, he should have guessed he'd already be mounted and waiting before he'd sent his boy.

Petyr smiled, "My King" he knew Ramsay would try to bolt without him and there was no chance of him letting that happen. Not with such important business to discuss.

Ramsay watched as the rest of the party mounted, they were barely half way through when he saw the sun in the distance lifting off from the top of the forests branches. With a loud crack his horse took off, he growled to himself as he flew through the gates and took off toward the woods with the men who were already saddled in tow.

"You'd do well to learn to extend your patience" Petyr pulled his large brown horse alongside Ramsay when he slowed, finally feeling satisfied in the forests where he felt like he belonged.

"The court has taken my hunts and turned them into slow, boring obligations. I will not wait for slow men."

Petyr knew Ramsay was at his breaking point, he'd taken a bloodthirsty warrior and was trying to turn him into a courtier.

"What would you suggest that we do?"

Ramsay blinked for a moment, he tried to keep his composure but the last thing he'd expected was for Petyr to ask his opinion. Ramsay smirked knowing exactly what he would do.

"I'd rid my court of your pompous lords, the men who are too round to wield swords and too gallant to use them even if they could. The ones who hold the old ways in their hearts. I'd replace them with my boys, strong, loyal and fierce until the end. Unyielding and unquestioning. Then I'd take that Kings guard of yours and hang every one of them from sept. I'd bleed them out one by one and serve the produce in the service of the old gods."

A glimmer flickered through Ramsey's eyes until he broke it…and smiled sweetly "But then that wouldn't be very king like would it."

Petyr had heard a great many things in his time but somehow Ramsay still managed to roll his stomach, not that Petyr would ever give the bastard the satisfaction of knowing that. Petyr had spent a great deal of time away from Kings landing over the last weeks and was pleased that he had returned to a city still standing. Sansa had headed his advice and taken Ramsay in hand although with Margery yet to return to high garden, he was still concerned.

As they entered a clearing Petyr pulled his mare to a halt and looked Ramsay deeply in the eyes, he knew it was time now. "Ramsay, there is a battle coming. One that will curdle even your blood. You may be a warrior amongst men but you will not be fighting men. You are king of the capitol with camps stretching as far as I can see around its walls. Forget tradition and do what needs to be done just as I have and will continue to do. You have my support. I heard stories of the bastards boys of the Dreadfort. Now you have hundreds of thousands of men. Mould them into an army who stand a chance of triumph."

Ramsay's eyes widened in utter glee, "An army of bastards boys?" he was mocking Petyr and he knew it but the man simply nodded his head.

"If that is what it takes"

"An honourable king could never do that to his men"

"You're a fool if you think I put you on the throne to be an honourable king."

With that Petyr pulled his rose roughly to turn and started back towards kings landing.

"Are you not coming on the hunt?" Ramsay questioned

"I never did care for hunting…simply the politics it hosted"

"If we aren't fighting men…then what are we fighting?"

Petyr's eyes burned …"Monsters"

Ramsay watched as Petyr moved away with a roar he shouted after him "I am not a stag or a lion, I am not afraid of monsters!"

* * *

Petyr still had a smile on his wiry face as he walked the corridor to Sansa's bed chamber, he was greeted at the door by the kings guard. A handful of old faces and a few new…additions from the Tyrell army but none of them were Ramsey's. His boys were still in the castle, they walked the halls in black and were more dangerous than the entire army as far as the capitol was concerned. Ramsay kept them under tight control but Petyr had heard about their night time hunts. He heard everything.

As the guard stepped aside he saw Sansa sat in the window which edged onto the balcony. Her long red hair tumbling over the green satin of her gown. Holding a book in one hand and her swollen stomach with the other.

"You're glowing" Petyr smiled

Sansa rolled her eyes and grimaced

"I thought you'd gone hunting" she snapped. This was the first time she'd seen Petyr since he'd been back from his business in the North and he'd chosen to go to Ramsay before coming to her.

"Come now Sansa my dove, I have important news"

Sansa winced as she felt a horrible but familiar twinge flicker through her lower back, she kept it as far from her face as possible but she was sure Petyr noticed. She'd woken up only minutes after Ramsay had left, a shudder of pain rousing her from an otherwise pleasant dream.

Petyr watched her curiously and strode across the room to join her on her seat.

"I've found Bran and Rickon"

Any pain she had felt was gone and for the first time on a long time it felt like her heart had been set alight.

"Really?"

Petyr nodded.

"I'm having them brought to Kings landing but nobody can know who they are. You understand that your brothers would pose a threat to your Husband"

Sansa grimaced again, unable to ignore another jolt of sharp pain.

"I have tried to hold Ramsay back as best I could"

Petyr stroked her cheek, he could sense her pain and felt his stomach drop slightly in fear. He'd known this would happen and that the child would come but if he lost Sansa now then almost everything he'd done would be wasted.

"You have done well and what I asked. Everything is in place and I have free'd him now to do his worst."

Sansa's eyes widened in horror

"You can't mean that, you'd rain Bolton hell down on our own people?"

Petyr smiled "It will take monsters to fight monsters my dear"

Petyr sat in silence for several minutes, watching Sansa to confirm his suspicions and when he saw her grimace again he sighed.

"How long?"…"How long have the pains been coming?"

Sansa flinched waiting for the pain to pass, when she realised she was found out she gasped and whimpered clutching the cushion beside her.

"Please don't tell them" she pleaded looking to the doors. She knew the moment they found out word would reach Ramsay and he would…"ahh" another pain hit her and suddenly her gown was soaked with water.

She looked down disgusted expecting Petyr to jump away but he didn't.

He stood calmly and took her by the elbows moving her to the bed, he knelt down before her and spoke gravely. "This will get considerably worse before it gets better. You won't be able to hide it. You will scream and they will hear."

Sansa shook her head…"I won't, I promise I won't."

Petyr had seen his fair share of births as a brothel owner, he knew the young girl in front of him had no idea what was about to happen to her but he nodded and gripped her hand.

"There are things we need to do this Sansa. I must get them, can you manage without me for a short while?"

Sansa nodded bravely and began to unlace her dress.

Petyr stood, walked swiftly to the door and closed it behind him. He clutched his hand into a fist as he made his way to the dungeons. Down cold dark steps and into the gloomy darkness. He opened the door to the hounds where he found four of Ramsey's boys sat around a wooden table drinking ale and taunting the dogs with juicy meat they held on string.

They looked at him with loathing and disgust "What are you doing down here hand" the largest spat.

Petyr took a breath "The queen's pains have begun. Fetch the King"

The large man gulped and the others at the table flew to their feet in a manner that Petyr hadn't thought possible. Before he could order his thoughts the men were gone, he'd give Ramsay that…he had those things extremely well trained.

When the Kings guard outside Sansa's door came into sight one moor Petyr knew he'd been right. He heard Sansa's stifled scream and saw the men exchanging cautious words. None of them quite dared to fetch the King themselves, all still wary of Ramsay's notorious tendency to flay the messenger of disturbing news.

"Lord Baelish the maids are attending the Queen"

The king's guard moved to block his path but Petyr was set.

"I've sent the Kings boys to fetch him, he should arrive shortly and I gave my word to the Queen that I would return the moment I'd delivered the message."

The men still blocked his path.

"It will give her relief to know that her husband has been sent for… how long were you planning to wait before you sent word?"

The men moved aside with dipped heads and Petyr stormed past into the room where a handful of maids were fussing around a flushed red and groaning Sansa.

"He's coming isn't he?"

Petyr nodded his head "I'm afraid so"

Sansa's pale eyes rolled "It can't be normal for it to hurt this much"

"I'm afraid it is my dear"

He stayed beside the door the entire time, desperate to comfort her but knowing it impossible. As he left he said a silent prayer, that Sansa and the child would make it through this alive.

For over an hour it continued, the pain worse and longer every time. Her young hand maids replaced with burly older servants who'd delivered more than their fair share of children. Sansa cursed their stupid traditions, she wasn't a fan of the measter but this seemed like the sort of thing she should have one for. "No men in the birthing room" was what the broadest women kept saying. Even the guards who stood by the door had been forced several feet away.

"Try to breath deeply" one of the women said as Sansa gasped for breath between pain.

Ramsay rode harder than he ever had, he'd lost his breath and cold air blustered through the fur of his cape. His boys rode behind him, they'd left the hunting part long behind, nobody but his own men could keep pace with him. As they flew through the gates people were knocked from their path and scattered before them. Word had spread like wildfire…the Queen was giving birth.

He sprung from his hose landing with a crash on the stone floor, he ran the steps with a sick perversion growing by the second. As he men dismounted behind him bewildered stable boys flocked to grab the abandoned horses before they ran.

"Get out of my way" he seethed as the Kings guard outside Sansa's door braced themselves in his path. He could smell her pain from behind that door.

"My King you can't…"

"It's not proper"

The men meekly protested.

A deep frantic scream of pain from the chamber made Ramsays blood boil.

He took his sword in his hand and tossed it in his grip as though it were no heavier than a feather.

"Every second you stand in my way…is another piece I will send you back to your family in."

The kings guard scattered and Ramsay burst through the door to see his wife on the brink of birth.

Not one of the women said anything, Sansa fumed as she saw the women who'd been so bold until now suddenly cower. They'd heard Ramsay's threat to the guards.

The corridor was full of Ramsay's boys and Sansa knew it was useless to resist. She'd known this would happen. Ramsay's perverse obsession with pain, sordid acts of the body and family all combined into one monstrous event.

She could see the glint in his eyes….he was going to watch.


	23. Chapter 23

Hi All

Thanks for the fantastic reviews of this story. A special shout out to BrightneeBee, your review blew my mind!

I will update, I promise. However, after re reading I was really unhappy with the quality and flow having written most of this story in the early hours.

I'm re-writing/ touching it up. I've replaced all the way up to the end of Chapter 5 in the last 8 hours so if you read/loved this story please, please, please re read the first 5 chapters. It should be much easier to read and the plot should be clearer. There's quite a bit of bonus material added as well.

Once I'm all caught up I will continue on with the story!


	24. Chapter 24

Ok guys here is it, you asked and I have delivered. Thank you all for the incredible reviews please keep them coming I love them and they inspire me to keep writing!

I'm editing the whole fic and have currently replaced up to chapter 12 so should be done soon. The storyline is staying the same I'm just cleaning it up a bit. I didn't want to keep you waiting another week for the new chapter so I'm giving it to you now.

 **I feel like this is self-explanatory given the Sansa/Ramsay pairing but this chapter specifically does contain graphic and disturbing content. If you do not like childbirth or sadistic Ramsayness….don't read it! RATING: M and not in a sexy way.**

* * *

Sansa screamed as the pain tore through her, burning, twisting…splitting her in two. She writhed on the bed as beads of sweat collected and dripped down her memory of Cersei's words flickered through her mind in the moments between one pain drifting away and other arriving. Jaime had stayed at her bedside during childbirth out of loyalty but Ramsay now stood at her out of something entirely different. Twisted pleasure.

"It won't be long now" The burly woman between her legs said.

Interest gleamed in Ramsay's dark eyes.

"Get out!" Sansa screamed as another pain hit hard. Her stomach contracted like an iron belt and Ramsay, unmoved by her outburst, saw the twitch beneath the cloth nightdress. His breathing sped as he said nothing but roughly reached for the hem and pulled it up and off her body. The woman between her legs gasped in horror as Sansa was displayed swollen and flushed red to the room.

Ramsay touched his hand to her stomach and pressed his fingers there, "Hard like stone" he breathed, amused by the development.

"Your grace you simply cannot…"

"Get out" Ramsay snarled at the burly woman and her aids. The women around the end of the bed looked awestruck.

"Did you not hear me? GET OUT. Or my men will remove you." Ramsay glanced at the door, his men were poised on the other side he knew they had heard him."

Sansa screamed again with another pain it was happening she could feel it and she loathed herself for not having the energy to direct in Ramsay's path. The women scattered for the door, Ramsay held his hand up to the last. The youngest and meekest of the bunch.

"You've done this before?" he rasped

"Yes your grace…many times." The girl replied.

"Stand in the corner in case the child should get stuck. Whatever you hear do not turn around unless I command you to. Do you understand?"

"Yes" the girl whimpered, running to the window and looking out.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sansa panted, she regretted it the moment Ramsay took to the bed and knelt in the place the burly woman had been…firmly between her legs.

He took an ankle in each hand and pushed them up and back towards her.

"Don't you dare…OWWW GODS."It was too late, her legs were parted and Ramsay was inspecting her intimately. His dark eyes glimmered with the sight which would have brought most men to tears.

"I can see its head" he said, matter of factly and Sansa felt his hand graze her labouring sex.

"I hate you" she screamed

"You'll get over it" Ramsay splayed her legs even farther until Sansa was sure she would tear in half. With another pain she buried her face into the bedclothes until they were ripped away.

"No" Ramsay snarled, "You have to breath, if you faint I'll have to cut it out of you. Now push." He slapped her thigh like she was favourite bitch birthing pups.

"I am pushing you bastard!" she screamed.

Ramsay knelt up further holding her knee's open wider and smirking "Not hard enough or this would be over by now." Ramsay looked down again, his hand prodding her in the most tender area and making hot tears seep down her cheeks.

"He's almost here, just one hard push Sansa."

"I'm scared" she cried, looking guiltily into his cold eyes.

"You're fine! Now stop snivelling and push."

Glaring at him with bitter hatred Sansa screamed with the next blinding pain and bit down on the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. A rush of pressure exploded and suddenly…the pain was gone.

Ramsay knelt above her holding a still infant to his chest, blood and mucus staining his shirt he looked down at the child in expectation. Sansa's heart stilled "Why's he not…"

Ramsay instinctively turned the child down to face the bed and rubbed it's back the way he did with pups slow to take their first breath. When nothing happened he rubbed harder swearing curses under his breath growing louder with every moment of unnerving silence.

Sansa sobbed into the pillow, sure that her heart and body were on the brink of being pulled to the grave with her child until she heard one final loud slap of skin and the heart wrenching first cry of a gasping new born. Her eyes snapped open to see Ramsay smiling, the briefest look of relief flashed across his face, but in the time it took Sansa to blink the smile was gone; replaced by a glower to rival the day Walda Frey had announced her pregnancy.

"What wrong?" Sansa spluttered from the bed.

Ramsay stood silently, the child in an open sheet in his arms.

"It's a girl." He said as he strode toward the door. Sansa struggled to her knee's pain etching her body and desperation filling her face.

"Where are you taking her?" she sobbed

Ramsay turned as he reached the door, the look of malice back in his eyes. "To see my dogs, where else?"

He was gone and Sansa sunk down onto the bed and sobbed like she never had before. The girl by the window cleared her throat terror in her eyes.

"Can I turn around now?" she whispered but nobody answered.


	25. Chapter 25

I had this pre written...I know I'm terrible but this was always my plan. I could have held out for comments a few more days but I wont because I'm a nice person and there's a child's life on the line! Thank you all for the response please please please keep them coming. I am re writing earlier chapters to clean them up a bit so please do bare with me.

* * *

Word reached Petyr before Ramsay stepped foot in his dungeon of dogs. Petyr had his little birds all over the castle and as he made pace to head off Ramsay he realised that he could not recall the last time he ran. Truly ran as though his life depended on it, the way he was running to the dungeons. Was he going to make it in time?

Minutes later he pounced through the door, into the dark room, to a sound which made his heart stop…crying. He wasn't too late!

Having readied himself for the worst the sight which greeted him was a…surprise. Ramsay sat on the edge of the cages, the fussing bundle of sheets on his lap he glared down at it intensely; as though his glare alone would make it go away.

"Ramsay…don't do this" Petyr inched toward him, cautiously "You don't have to do this."

Ramsay's eyes glinted though they never once moved from the bundle on his lap "…but I want to" he smirked. Petyr inched closer, he didn't know what he was going to do once he reached Ramsay, he could never take the Bolton Bastard in a fight. Ramsay would flay him alive just for trying but he had to do something.

"Don't be a fool Ramsay; daughters have their uses."

Ramsay snarled at his words "I have no use for one!"

"She's your blood Ramsay. The first person to ever belong entirely to you. Don't kill her."

Ramsay rasped a frustrated sigh before glowering up at Petyr…"I was going to. I was going to feed it to my dogs and I wouldn't have been sorry. I wouldn't have mourned it."

Peytr knew he was telling the truth, Ramsay held contempt in his taught jaw. Then Petyr had a sudden realisation, watching Ramsay sat starring back down at his daughter.

"Then why haven't you?" he asked, his heart racing in his chest. He was playing a dangerous game. Ramsay could throw the child into the cage at any second. He didn't; instead he starred incredulously at the bundle, which squirmed and fussed in his lap. He looked back up to Petyr with something Petyr had never before seen in him.

"She looks like her mother" Ramsay hissed.

Petyr could have been knocked over by a mild breeze. He'd almost reached Ramsay's side and he glanced over his shoulder at the child; she had dark copper hair and Sansa's eyes.

"Aye, that she does. She'll be a beauty one day and you'll be able to sell her to the highest bidding lord for whatever you want. Or gift her to secure allegiance, either way she'll be an asset to you."

Ramsay was silent but the silence didn't last. The door was flung open with such force both men flinched and one of Ramsay's brawling boys fell through in a tangle of arms and legs. He could hardly breathe, he pointed back through the door.

"The Queen…something ….wrong …girl said….dying." He flinched waiting for Ramsay's dagger to pierce his throat as it soared through the air. It did not. Ramsay's face fell to grey ash as he shoved the infant from his lap, caught swiftly by Petyr.

Ramsay stormed for the door. "That wolf will not die until I allow her!"

Petyr looked down at the infant in his arms once the room was dark again and they were alone. The beasts in their cages snarled now their master was gone. They'd been teased with the smell of blood and they wanted a taste. Petyr shuddered and held the child close to him.

"You are lucky my dear" he said, "Your father's love for your mother saved you from a terrible end."

* * *

Two floors away Ramsay could hear her piercing screams. He didn't recall when he broke into the sprint but still his thick leather boots pounded the stone floor. His men scattered from the door as he rounded the corner.

"Go and find the measter now!" he growled. "If she dies before he gets here so will all of you!"

The men scattered. They knew if Sansa really were on the verge of death in childbirth the Maester would not be able to help. However, it would give Ramsay someone other than them to direct his unlimited anger toward.

When Ramsay opened the door Sansa lay on the bed her face red and body contorted. The small girl who had been stood at the window now knelt in front of his wife on the bed. Pale and shaking her hands were covered in blood, it stained the sheets around Sansa in big red pools. Ramsay had seen more than his fair share of blood in his day but the sight made his stomach churn and his face tense with anger.

"If you think you're dying before you've given me a son wolf you're wrong!" He snarled.

He was at her bedside in a moment and if she was aware; she didn't acknowledge him.

"What happened?" he demanded, the small girl firmly in his sights.

"You left" she trembled "and…I tried to get the afterbirth to…but it wouldn't and then the blood."

She held up her hands to demonstrate "Something's wrong."

Ramsay's voice was quieter than it had been all day, he twitched his jaw as he asked the question he realised he feared most "Will she live?"

The girl gawped at him in disbelief "I don't know. I have no idea whats….Oh." The girl was back between Sansa' knee's as Sansa screamed again in agony. When the girl reappeared her face was calmer.

"She'll live" she said "I know that's wrong. We'll need help though she needs to get up on her knee's."

Ramsay was already mounting the bed as she spoke "Why?"

"There's another baby" The girl answered "but it's the wrong way round. It's going to be worse than the first."

Ramsay seized Sansa around the chest and lifted her swiftly to her knee's. They wobbled beneath her and she let out a mournful sob. She was delirious with grief, tiredness and endless pain.

"I knew you wouldn't die" Ramsay rasped into her hair as he moved her.

Sansa's pale eyes opened and greeted him with a look of hatred deeper than he'd ever seen.

"I hope I do." She muttered

"Take that back." He growled.

"No, I want to die. I'll never forgive you." Her knee's gave way and her body fell limply to the bed. Ramsay did the only thing that he could, he gripped her from behind and held her up with his body.

"Help her!" he shouted to the girl who clambered to retake her place between Sansa's knees.

"You need to push." She said to Sansa.

"I can't" Sansa sobbed, Ramsay's skin felt like nettles against hers.

"If you don't it'll kill you." Ramsay roared in her ear.

"Good"

Ramsay buried his head into her neck, bracing them both against the bed frame and threatening her in hissed whispered with a fate worse than death if she didn't fucking push!

The girl looked up at the scene, she looked only at Sansa. "If you don't push this child will never take its first breath."

Sansa bared down and pushed as hard as she could and when the burst of pressure came and went she closed her eyes and waited. She was sure she wouldn't make it to nightfall. In the darkness of her mind she heard the child cry….just as the first one had.

Ramsay had released her and she heard him take the child from the girl.

Silence

"Sansa" Ramsay's voice was filled with menacing glee "I have my son" he said.

"Good" Sansa muttered through gritted teeth "because you've lost your wife."


	26. Chapter 26

Guys this is short but I'm posting it for you anyway. I've been super busy trying to launch my own writing career...I know 'the dream'. Anyways if you're reading this please follow me on twitter york_arabella. I'd really really appreciate it! Also, feel free to send your suggestions for baby names, I'm open to them.

* * *

Ramsay stood holding his new born son in his arms. The boy had dark hair and blue eyes just like his own. His son would grow healthy and strong into a fine warrior and future king; Ramsay was sure of it. He felt something he had never felt so deeply before; pride!

"Do you want to see my son?" Ramsay asked, Sansa lay on the bed, her face ashen she starred at the ceiling above her; just as she had the night of their wedding. Ramsay didn't like it. The longer he watched her the more nervous the sight made him and anger boiled in his blood; how dare she not share in his joy? His wife was supposed to revel in the joy of their first born son.

"No, just take him away." Sansa's voice was meek and emotionless, even when the child in Ramsay's arms began to fuss she didn't divert her gaze from the ceiling.

Sansa couldn't form a coherent thought to actively understand how she felt; she couldn't process the events of the last few hours. In her mind she was still sat at the window begging Petyr not to alert the guard to her pains; everything had been alright in that moment.

There was a thick knock at the door, it swung open and there stood Petyr with the baby girl in her arms. Sansa hadn't flinched; hadn't looked up. The whole castle could come parading through this room for all she cared and she wouldn't cover herself or cry out with the pain that still riddled her body. Nothing meant anything anymore.

"I have a son!" Ramsay announced; badly masking the triumph in his voice.

"So I've heard, your men are celebrating in the courtyards already my king" Petyr said, he looked down at the bed and his face contorted with worry.

"Sansa" his voice hitched as he spoke.

Sansa closed her eyes slowly and took a gulp of air "Leave me, all of you leave me to mourn" her voice was barely a whisper and tears ran freely out of her closed eyes and down her cheeks to dampen the sheets.

"Of course" Petyr said "but before I go, I thought you may wish to meet your daughter."

Sansa's eyes snapped open and landed on Petyr and the bundle in his arms like a well shot arrows "Give her to me!" Sansa almost blacked out from the pain as she tried to crawl toward him, Petyr couldn't stand to watch so brought the child to her and only when Sansa lay holding her daughter in her arms did she finally smile.

"See all is well that ends well. Two healthy children were born and nobody died" Ramsay smirked; attempting to brush off the events of the day as though the ugly incident had never happened.

Sansa slowly brought her eyes to land on her husband; Ramsay would never admit this, not even on his death bed. But in that one moment Sansa succeeded in sending a chill down his spine. "You died" Sansa said "To me Ramsay, you died in this room now take your son and leave."


	27. Chapter 27

His knuckles rapped against the dark wood of the table. Ramsay sat in his private den, contemplating the week, brooding and seething about how badly it had gone. The only light in the small room, decorated with dark furs and dingy furniture which reminded him of the dread fort, came from a single candle on the far table.

"My King." The door creaked behind him, he didn't need to turn to know who he would find. Only two people had dared visit him in the past week, the wet nurse who collected and returned his infant son each day…and Petyr. Sure enough the wiry shadow of his hellish hand hovered in the doorway.

"Come in." Ramsay growled through gritted teeth.

Petyr headed directly for the chair furthest from his own and sat down, "She won't come out."

"Then make her!" Ramsay spat.

"It's no use."

"She's a fragile girl who gave birth only days ago, over power her if you must but I want her and my daughter out of her chambers." Ramsay clawed at the table until his knuckles began to bleed. He hadn't returned to Sansa's chambers himself. He wasn't sure why but something inside prevented him. Instead he sent his commands regularly through careful messengers. His wife was no taking the commands well.

"If you wish to overpower the queen might I suggest you go up there and do it yourself."

Ramsay smashed his goblet on the table in a fit of rage and snarled at Petyr "I don't care how you do it. Just do it!"

"I assure you I have tried."

"I thought she listened to you."

"Sansa is no longer listening to reason."

Ramsay fell silent, searching for an idea. "Take the child away from her. Then she'll come out."

Petyr sighed and Ramsay felt a curdling sickness in the pit of his stomach. "I tried that already my king."

"…and."

Petyr stuttered over his words slightly, something Ramsay had never thought he would witness. "She took the girl to the window ledge, climbed up and threatened to jump."

Ramsay sat in shock. "She wouldn't...there's not a chance she would have…"

"I believe she would." Petyr said.

Ramsay's eyes met Petyr's cold grey ones for the first time since the birth of his children. "Why is she doing this? Why must she be so…so..."

Petyr stood back to his feet, "Why don't you ask her? I assure you Ramsay you need to get this in order. Things are changing quickly now and if you lose your Stark you WILL lose your throne."


	28. Chapter 28

The days blurred together, grey sunlight faded into endless darkness then back whilst she lay in her bed starring at the ceiling. It struck her how similar it felt, as though she were thirteen again hiding in her room desperately pretending the city beyond her door wasn't there. The same numb feeling, the same endless depression.

She thought of the North, pressed her eyes together tightly and remembered those long-gone days in Winterfell with the siblings she would never see again.

"Sansa" a soft knock sounded at the door. It creaked open and in came Petyr. "The whole kingdom is worried about you."

"I don't care what they think."

A sudden cry came from the basket beside her bed and she tentatively reached down.

He couldn't help but notice the way she grimaced as she moved. He moved to help her but instead of accepting she clutched the child closer to her and moaned in pain.

"She's a beauty."

Perched on the edge of her bed he watched as she dropped her nightgown and began to feed the infant from her own breast. It wasn't the act itself which made him uncomfortable, running a whorehouse meant he was well accustom to women feeding their children. For high born ladies it was unheard of, and because of this, and the ease with which she exposed her naked breast, he concluded that she had lost the dignity which had been bestowed upon her at birth.

"Shall we take a walk in the gardens this afternoon? The weather won't stay this fine for long now. Winter is coming after all." He smiled, it was no reciprocated.

"I won't leave this room."

Petyr sighed, "You can't stay in here. He won't let you."

Separating the tiny infant from her chest her eyes narrowed. "Then he can come up here and remove me himself."

"Sansa please."

"No! I'm fed up of being 'reasonable'." Tears pooled in her eyes, "He tried to kill her…"

"I know."

"I hear you out there you know. Hovering in the hallways taking to the servants in whispers. You promised you'd help me and now you're what, his errand boy?"

Petyr let out an exasperated gasp. "I am helping you, you little fool but your sitting up here pissing of your bastard husband will ruin everything. They think you're going to kill yourself, the servants, the whole bloody castle."

Tears streamed down Sansa's face and Petyr almost felt guilt, for allowing the broken little girl before him to suffer such extremes. Almost…but not quite.

"Maybe I will, what do I have left?"

"Your children?"

She shook her head venomously, "They're his children."

"Sansa."

"There is nothing you can say Petyr, I won't change my mind and I certainly won't carry on as though nothing happened!"

He walked to the window and stood beside it, silent for a moment he braced his hand against the cold stone wall before he said the words he knew would change everything. He had been saving them, a careful plan to reveal them at precisely the right time but he couldn't let this continue else everything would be lost. "Sansa, John is alive."

* * *

"They say she has ten thousand barbarians and a fleet of ships to rival the Iron born."

Ramsay's fist curled into a tight ball as he listened. Surrounded by the small council which had come a long way from being 'small'. Twelve men, seven of whom Ramsay could not name. Petyr insisted they were useful but so far Ramsey could not fathom why.

"Her dragons are each as large as this very castle."

"Enough!" His fish slammed against the wooden table and silenced the room. "Does anybody have anything useful to say?"

Men looked to each other…mutters exchanged as he rose from his seat to stride arrogantly around them. "Anybody?... Any ideas as to how we'll defeat this bitch?"

Silence ensued.

"Of course not. You men would rather piss away our precious time speculating about the size of her tits."

The convening of the council did not pick up from that point and by the time the men filled out of the room almost a full hour later Ramsay would have rather slit Lord Marks throat before listening to another word from his mouth. When the chairs ceased scraping the floor and the room fell quite once more only Ramsay remained. His knuckles rapped on the arm of the chair as he mulled over the challenge he was facing. These past few weeks it seemed that everything had fallen apart.

He walked the corridors towards the great hall in silence, contemplating how he'd arrived here. He had always possessed great ambition for a bastard but never had he dreamed of being king. Now that he wore the crown he would fight to the death to keep it, yet all it had done was land problems in his lap. He had revelled in his solidarity in the North. No prying eyes watching him he could do what he wanted but now…

"Lord Bolton." He was interrupted as one of his men arrived just steps ahead of him.

"What?" he snarled.

"The Queen, you said to notify you immediately if anything changed."

A sickening feeling curdled the put of his stomach. "and?"

"…She's out in the courtyard with Lord Baelish."

* * *

"They're all looking at me."

"Then perhaps you could show them your beautiful smile."

Sansa had almost forgotten what fresh air felt like, the cool breeze on her cheeks, the scent of soil catching in the back of her throat. It was bright and fresh and suddenly she missed the safety of her they walked arm in arm they she couldn't help but notice how beautiful the gardens were, scattered with faces she recognised and littered with those she did not. A small serving girl followed a few paces behind her holding the tiny infant swaddled in a large bundle of cloth. Her heavy skirts rustled beneath her, weighing her down, she'd become used to wearing nothing but her nightgown.

"So you're sure, that John's...alive?"

"Yes" He said it so confidently she couldn't help but be filled with confidence. "I received a raven, a disturbing one and at first I didn't believe it."

"But now you do?"

His eyebrows knitted together, jaw suddenly tense. "It is a strange world we live in Sansa and I have a feeling it is about to become even stranger."

She nodded, her skin beginning to prickle under the weight of a thousand eyes. "I feel as though I'm on parade."

"You are, but I promise you this my little bird, it will all be worth it."

She fixed her eyes on the horizon, far beyond the sprawling city, past its wales and out to the wilderness beyond. "I know it will."


End file.
